Camouflage
by Lady Rhapsody
Summary: AU BV: Vejita has carried out his dream of domination, but what does that entail for everyone else? Bulma and her companions must endure a life of hiding, but how long will she be able to resist temptation and stay away from the Saiyajin Prince?
1. Prologue

**. . . . Camouflage . . . .**

Lady Rhapsody

**. . Prologue******

The sky was appropriately dark as Goku walked home, his steps hurried and his head hung low. A storm was threatening, and it was just as well – metaphorically, the weather was cooperating perfectly. As the first raindrops began to fall, the Saiya-jin grimaced from beneath the cover of his somber hood. They were going to get wet tonight.

He had spent all day searching for even the smallest coin or means of exchange, to no avail. It seemed that the remainder of the multitude of impoverished survivors had beaten him to the chase. This would not be the first time that he and his friends went hungry; they had survived before, and they would again. Even his enormous Saiya-jin appetite had been diminished by the scarcity of resources.

Lightning flashed, and a nearby peddler caught a glimpse of Goku's obviously Saiya-jin face. The man shrunk back and immediately retreated behind his stand of goods. Though Vejita, Radditz, and Nappa were the only Saiya-jins besides himself left, their distinctly dark and rugged Saiya-jin appearance were easily recognized by all. Goku felt a pang of shame at the thought of the evil trio – he had****failed in preventing Vejita from making the wish to revive the men who were now helping him reign terror on the universe****and failed. Emphatically failed. When the wish was being made, he had been miles away, blissfully unaware. Now his son was dead and he and his remaining friends were living in constant fear.

It had been a calm winter day three years ago, on Christmas Eve in fact, when it happened.****Tranquil Christmas lights illuminated the city, and everyone was gathered at Capsule Corporation for the annual dinner party that the Briefs family held. They had been dressed in their holiday best and gathered around the magnificent Christmas tree when Vejita slipped away. No one gave his disappearance a second thought – the surly prince preferred to avoid the company of the Z senshi whenever possible, not that anyone really minded. Despite the fact that he had been staying with the Briefs without incident for months, he still struck fear into the hearts of the group.

Without the other Saiya-jin to moniter, Goku turned his attention to the second most interesting person in the room – Bulma. He always noticed what Bulma was doing. It was strange – his eyes were, and always had been, inexplicably drawn to her. She was magnetically radiant, as she always was when entertaining. He allowed himself a small, fond smile before he turned his attention back to his family.

It wasn't until several hours later that Vejita returned. He entered the room, wielding his characteristic malicious smirk like a weapon, and, akin to a panther, slipped to Bulma's side. The girl flashed him a brilliant smile and stepped away from the group of people she had been talking to in order to greet him.

Goku was shocked when the Saiya-jin initiated contact with Bulma by brushing a lock of her hair aside so that he could whisper something into her ear. The girl initially appeared thrilled to be the object of the dark man's intimacy. Goku shook his head at her persisting attraction to dangerous men. Already aware that Bulma and Vejita had likely been having an affair for quite some time now (it was almost impossible for someone who knew Bulma as well as he to miss it), Goku turned away from the pair.

Bulma and Goku were the only two to notice Vejita leave again. Goku knew this because when he felt the other Saiya-jin's ki move, he instinctively glanced after it. Bulma was standing where Vejita had left her, and was looking in the same direction. She was almost ethereal in her flowing white party dress, reminiscent of a Greek goddess with her long, flowing curls and deceptively innocent, rosy complexion. The look in her eyes, however, contrasted with her festive appearance. The cerulean depths were clouded with confusion and fear.

He was about to go and find out just what the prince had said that had caused the regularly unshakable heiress to look like that when her expression suddenly changed. A bright smile graced her face, and her cat-eyes sparkled once again. Goku, having known the girl since childhood, knew a facade when he saw one. Because she quickly slipped back into the crowd of visitors, he let it slide, something that he would regret for years to come.

By the time Piccolo felt the dragon being summoned and the Z fighters sensed the emergence of two powerful, horribly familiar ki's alongside Vejita, it was too late. They didn't even make it past the front lawn before Vejita returned with Radditz and Nappa, newly revived. Vejita's power level was amazing – Goku felt his heart sink when he realized that the man had been hiding his true potential from them all along, as was evident by his glowing yellow hair and eyes the color of Bulma's. He quickly motioned for everyone but the Z senshi to return to the house, where they could maintain some semblance of safety.

The three Saiya-jins landed on the front lawn, wearing identical smirks, though Vejita's of course made the other two look friendly. Before Goku could react, Bulma pushed in front of him, eyes flashing angrily.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded of Vejita, hands on her slender hips. "How did you find my dragon radar, you sneaky bastard?"

"You're going to let this slut speak to you like that, Vejita-sama?" Nappa growled. "Let me take care of her, I'll show her where her place is!"

Vejita ignored the bald man's outburst, appraising Bulma with a cold, calculating expression that suddenly made Goku very wary. "I did not steal your little toy, sweetling – I simply replicated it. I could not risk one of your idiot employees discovering it missing and bringing suspicion down on me. After all, my desire to make a wish has never been a private one."

It was true, Goku thought – how could they have been naive enough to believe that the haughty prince had given up on his dream of universal domination just because he had ceased bragging about it? Gone was the short, gruff demeanor that the man had adopted while living under Bulma's roof – his previous personality, his true personality of sarcasm and malice, had emerged once again.

"You replicated it?" Bulma repeated incredulously. "How the hell did you manage to do that? You are technically inept, as you've proven countless times when you've broken the GR."

"It would have been rather stupid of me to reveal my strengths to my opponents, yes?" Vejita appeared bored with the questioning already, and turned to Nappa and Radditz. "Search the mansion for humans. Kill everyone. I wish to deal with this group personally."

Bulma started to lunge at the Saiya-jin, her infamous temper rearing its head at the worst possible time. Nappa and Radditz hesitated in mid-takeoff, hovering protectively over their leader. Goku stopped her before she was able to move more than two feet and shoved her back into the others, who restrained her, kicking and screeching. Vejita looked disappointed and scowled at the other Saiyan.

"Well now, that wasn't very nice, was it? You really should let the girl handle her own problems," the prince said, his voice oily and persuasive. "We have some... history that perhaps you don't know about, Kakkarott." He cast a suggestive, tell-tale look in Bulma's direction. "I suggest you allow us to deal with it sans interference. It is, after all, of a very personal nature."

The Z senshi was shocked enough to release their hold on Bulma, who remained standing where they left her, white-faced at the reveal of her secret. Goku felt shocked himself at the confirmation of what he had suspected all along, but was quicker to recover than the others.

"I will do no such thing," he announced, moving to the side to block Vejita's view of Bulma. "This isn't about whatever happened between you and Bulma. If you mean to take over this planet, then it is all of our business!"

Vejita laughed, a chilling sound. "Oh, Kakkarott, your ignorance never fails to astound me! I don't want to take over this shitty planet – I want the entire universe." He motioned to Nappa and Radditz, who still hovered above him, and the men took off, flying straight through the walls of the Capsule Corporation building.

"Mom! Dad! No!" Bulma released a bloodcurdling scream as the explosions started, tears smearing her makeup. This time, she was able to surge past Goku and throw herself at Vejita. "Call them away, you evil motherfucker! The only humans who could possibly be a threat are standing right in front of you!" Her small fists beat against Vejita's chest and face uselessly; the prince merely stared down at her in amusement – and, Goku noticed with some interest – admiration.

"I'm afraid I cannot take that risk, woman. Your father has an intellect capable of countering my strength, and I will not be able to rest until all opposition is neutralized. Speaking of which..." He seized one of the girl's tiny wrists, effectively capturing the hysteric girl. "You are even sharper than your thick-headed father. I think I'll keep you close..." Locking eyes with Goku, he took in the scent of Bulma's curly hair. Paralyzed with fear of his Super Saiya-jin form and the hysteria that took over after the eminent death of her parents, Bulma did nothing to resist him. "It would be unfortunate for me to have to give up what I have been enjoying for so long."

Then, out of nowhere: "You let Miss Bulma go, you big bully!" The small form of Gohan soared past everyone, straight for the waiting form of Vejita. The Saiya-jin wasted no time; he sent a lethal blast at the valiant child, effectively incinerating him in one shot. Behind Goku, Chichi screamed and fainted.

Goku, inspired by the needless and cruel death of his only son, immediately burst into Super-Saiya-jin form. Vejita, smiling at the challenge, roughly tossed Bulma aside and took to the sky to fight Goku. Yamcha rushed to collect Bulma's shaking form and brought her within the protective circle of Z warriors that included himself, Krillen, Piccolo, Tien, and Chaotzu. Unexpectedly, Bulma turned and ran into one of the smaller Capsule Corporation buildings, a laboratory where she often worked. The Z senshi watched her go without bothering to stop her. The majority of their attention was diverted to the fight that was now breaking out between the two Saiya-jins.

The battle was heartbreakingly short; within a matter of minutes, Goku was on the ground, unable to fight any more. The senshi looked on in shock, unable to process the fact that their hero had fallen. Vejita descended to stand above Goku.

Chaotzu and Tien gave each other conspiring looks, then launched themselves to the defense of their friend. Vejita killed them without even looking up from the bloody form of Goku, his opponent. The Saiya-jin, in his bloodlust, did not notice the small, nearly ki-less human form that was sneaking up behind him and lifted a hand to finish off his hated enemy.

"Well, Kakkarott, it appears as if this is the end," he said, actually smiling. "I have dreamed of this moment for longer than I can express to you."

"As have I."

Vejita felt something hard and metallic press against the back of his head. Turning slowly, he found himself face-to-face with one of Bulma's newest inventions – a ki-draining gun that he had watched the human labor over for months. Wielding the gun was the heiress herself, tear-streaked yet resolute. The Saiya-jin off-handedly thought that she had never looked more enticing.

"Take your cronies and leave. You can have Earth, but you can't have us – not yet." Bulma cocked the gun, aiming it at Vejita's chest with deadly intent. "You know was well as I that with one blast, I could render you just as weak as the humans which you hold so much scorn for."

Goku somehow managed to sit up, though every inch of his body was screaming in agony. He watched in amazement was Vejita weighed his options, regarding the brave girl with a strange intensity. Quicker than Bulma could react to and despite her well-known skill with weapons, he leaned closer, pressing the gun harder against his chest, and kissed her. It was not an affectionate kiss – it was possessive and angry. Then, in a blast of yellow light, he was gone, followed by Radditz and Nappa, who had left only death and destruction in their wake.

Bulma tracked Vejita's exit, keeping her gun trained on him until he was out of sight. Then, she let the weapon fall to the ground. Wordlessly, she went to stand before the wreckage of her home, now unrecognizable as anything else but a mountain of rubble. No one went after her. Instead, they hovered around Goku, their fallen leader.

That was when their new life began.

At first, they had stayed on the run, never stopping for anything for more than a few hours. After much debate, it was decided that they would stay in the large cities. This did not prove to be very difficult, since within the first year Vejita had transformed Earth into an enormous mega-city center of trade and intergalactic travel. It became his seat of power; it became what it had never been to him before – his home. Vejita floored them all with his ability to do just what he had set out to – completely take over Earth and then the universe. From what the group of refugees had heard on the street, there were only a few planets who had yet to submit to his rule. It was terrifying. A living nightmare.

After a year of successfully avoiding the Saiya-jin Prince turned Emperor, the group deemed it safe to stay in temporary shelters for small spurts of time, looking for odd jobs and occasionally committing petty crimes in order to get money for food and necessities. It was hard on all of them, and it showed. Goku had lost his boyish enthusiasm, Piccolo, instead of being simply irritable, was eerily quiet and contemplative, Krillen was cowardly and doubting, Yamcha was bitter and accusatory, and Chichi had become even more short-tempered than she had been before. But the person who had changed the most was Bulma.

The heiress had been a strong woman before, but that was nothing compared to what she had become. After saving them all with her bold stand against Vejita, she had become completely transformed. She was aggressive to the point of antagonistic, cold to make her seem almost akin to a warrior, and manipulative enough to make them all think twice about conversation with her. These might have been vices before Vejita's ascension, but they were assets now. The majority of their defense, unbelievably, came from Bulma; the majority of their money was earned by Bulma, albeit by means that were not always admitted; and the majority of their ideas and plans were drawn out by Bulma. She was a one-woman wonder now. Goku, as usual, had been observing her closely and taking note of all this behavior. He had been taking note of something else as well.

Her physical appearance, surprisingly, was cause for concern amongst them all. Since a large portion of the human population had been either victim to genocide or shipped off-world as slaves, Bulma's distinct lavender hair, pale skin, and bright blue eyes distinguished her from the crowd. It was merely her coloring that attracted attention, either – Bulma had gone from the relatively innocent, rosy-cheeked, girl who had danced across the imagination of the hard Saiya-jin Prince to a fiercely beautiful, voluptuous woman. One could not forget her presence if they consciously tried. She was stunning. It was astounding that they had been able to keep her identity a secret for this long.

Goku slipped down the alley that led to their shabby living quarters, and there she was. She was perched on the roof, keeping watch; her legs, long for her petite frame, dangled over the entrance to their shelter. She was smoking an alien version of a cigarillo despite the rain, the sweet scent wafting down to her Saiya-jin friend.

"No luck, I suppose?" she commented, glancing at his empty hands and pockets. "Great – if I lose any more weight I'll start to lose some rather lucrative money-making avenues." Her wry smile told him that she was only half-joking.

"You can go inside, I'll play sentry for a little while," Goku offered, painfully aware of the unhealthy dark rings beneath her slanted eyes.

"That's alright." She waved him away with her hand, concealed with a fingerless glove. She tossed away her soggy cigarillo and brushed long ropes of wet hair out of her face. "I'm enjoying the rain." She lifted her face to the sky, letting the rain run down her neck, soaking her rugged clothing, mockingly dramatic. "Besides, there's trouble on the home front today."

Goku nodded reluctantly and went inside, where he knew he would find some combination of Yamcha, Piccolo, Chichi, or Krillen engaged in some sort of argument. It was starting to seem like their once unbreakable friendships were cracking under the pressure of being hunted.

It was starting to get to them all.

_**. . Bulma . . **_

Time goes by, and still he searches for me.

We shared nothing: a few passionate moments, heated arguments, whispered dreams. I am not bound to him in any way; there were never any feelings of urgency or commitment. We were young; at least, I was – I had even been starting to hope that eventually, he would stop resisting the development of emotion towards me. Eighteen was not old enough to understand our liaison nor what was brewing under the safety of my own roof.

Just when I start to get sick of being drenched in the disgusting, polluted rain, the weather lets up a bit. Just enough for me to light up another smoke. I roll it between my fingers, which were once nimble over the controls of my inventions, and are now wasted committing unspeakable acts for pocket change and defending myself from those men whose language does not seem to contain a translation for 'no'. Such a fucking waste.

He fooled us all. Every single one of us. Even Piccolo, who I sometimes swear has telepathic abilities. I knew that Vejita was an inherently evil person – we all knew it. What we did not know was that the growth of his original plan of domination was not stunted by my hospitality nor by anything else that happened between his landing on Earth with Nappa and his ascension.

Now that I look back on it, it is all much clearer. Small snippets of conversation, subtle changes in facial expression, his cryptic way of speaking with all of us... I can see what was going on now.

The night that our hell began, the night of my family's Christmas party, he practically warned me of what was to come. I thought that I knew Vejita's character well enough to know that he would never give warning before attacking, but he, for once, proved me wrong, though I cannot fathom why.

"_Tonight, little one – tonight you all shall find out what I am truly made of."_

I sometimes feel as if this is all somehow my fault – as if I could have done something to prevent it. After all, during his stay at Capsule Corporation, I encouraged him to stop suppressing his emotion, to stop hiding his thoughts, to make a new life for himself. I suppose he did exactly what I told him to – carried out his dream.

So here we are, hiding from him, hiding from all who are under his command. This is not an easy task to accomplish – Vejita has become the single most powerful entity in the universe. There is no one who can stop him, no one who would dare resist him. We are fugitives, me especially, constantly running and glancing over our shoulders. It is a miserable life.

The only freedom we have is a pathetic illusion – we can still think freely, but we cannot express our thoughts, nor act on them. The only safe thing we can do is remember: remember our fallen friends, our dead families, our exploited planet. Our memories consume us.

My memories in particular haunt us all.

They cannot forgive me for what I have done. I don't really blame them. I consorted with the enemy, slept with the serial killer, was infatuated with the Saiya-jin who committed his umpteenth genocide on our very own planet. I can feel the loathing in their eyes, though they hardly ever openly show it. They can't. They need me.

When the attack came, I, in one fell swoop, saved them and doomed myself. I sealed my fate of forever running, hiding, and regretting all that I had done. There are days when I think that I would have done them a bigger favor if I had let just Vejita kill them.

He has destroyed everything we knew and loved. He has destroyed us. And yet...

Still I dream of him. I dream of his strong hands on my body; I dream of his deep, accented voice telling me of his home planet; I dream of him finding me one day and treating me like a queen. He has spread word throughout the planet, dropping hints of what would happen if I were to turn myself in – my wildest dreams would come to fruition. Wealth, power, countless galaxies to explore... These are dangerous dreams. Frightening dreams. They torment me. I would never tell the others.

I would never tell them, but they can see it in my eyes. They know. I can tell.

I am strong on the outside. I have to be. I am our protector, our mastermind, our fearless leader. In the past, it would have been Goku who would have assumed this role, but things are not the same. Since Gohan was killed he is not the same man. He is still more optimistic than all of us combined (which isn't saying much), but something is missing. It is hard for me to place, but Goku is a much different man.

I watch the others – Chichi, Yamcha, Piccolo, and Krillen – and I see that they notice the change in Goku as well. They are lost without their knight in shining armor and are not always trusting of his replacement – me. It's understandable. Sometimes I want to leave their shrinking, cowardly asses behind and go it alone. Sticking together only makes us more conspicuous, and with their crippling fear of Vejita they are less able to think on their feet. We have been put at risk many times because of their lapses in judgement. Would they make a mistake on purpose to give me away, to free themselves of the burden which my presence creates?

If they were to ever attempt it, I don't know whether I would want to kill them or to thank them.

I can hear the others yelling through the broken, nearly nonexistent roof of the shack which we currently call home. When I first led them into the cities, I was appalled at the disgusting places which made the most sense to stay at. I am, after all, born and bred an heiress. I became accustomed to these sorts of conditions soon enough. Now I consider myself lucky to be sleeping under any sort of roof at all. We've spent many a night huddled around a fire on the streets.

Night is falling. Well, the night that coincides with the sun. The metaphorical night has been hovering around us like a poisonous smog for the past three years. I lean back onto my elbows, waiting for the storm clouds to retreat and reveal the stars.

I would be all philosophical and say that the stars are the only part of my life that has not changed, but it would be a lie. Many of those stars are actually planets that Vejita controls now. For all I know, he could be visiting one of the very ones I am looking at. We haven't been past the enormous Gothic-looking structure which Vejtia calls home in about a month, but last time we were there Goku said that he could sense Vejita's ki inside. The Saiya-jin is a busy man; in all probability he is off-world now, spreading evil on one of the twinkling lights far above my head.

I have not shed a tear in nearly a year now. I cried myself to sleep every night for a good couple months in the beginning – pathetic really, that I let him get to me like that. I could lie and say that I was crying for the fate of my friends, which was largely my fault, but there's really no point. I cried for the hope that I had lost the moment that I had been forced to aim that gun at Vejita. Not even twenty-four hours beforehand, I had been in his arms, trusting enough to fall asleep under his watch. I turn my face away from the stars abruptly before the memories start up again.

The yelling from inside stops. Reluctantly, I lower myself off of the roof. Goku will never let me hear the end of it if I do not let him keep watch for a few hours. As I enter the shelter, I am faced with Piccolo, who is exiting.

He gives me a somber look, and mumbles something as he brushes past me: "Vejita has returned. It is time to leave, to lose ourselves deeper within the city."

I try not to let any sort of reaction register, but as I lift my eyes, I meet those of Goku. He is always watching.

**A/N: **I'm back at last! It feels good to write again after my long absence, I must admit. Anyway,

this is only a preview of what's to come. I can't be sure of when the next installment will be posted, since I'm very busy with college and all that, but it shouldn't be too long of a wait.

Let me know what you think! Please remember to review!

Lady Rhapsody


	2. Chapter One

**. . . . Camouflage . . . .**

Lady Rhapsody

**. . One**

**_. . Vejita . ._**

Power.

It is perhaps the most orgiastic thing that one could possibly experience. I should know -- I have become the single most powerful entity in the universe, all on my own merit. Power surges through my veins, pulsating and inspiring my every waking moment. I once resented the ridiculous monopoly of power that Frieza held; now that I am in the same position, the monopoly makes much more sense. Then again, I am not fool enough to create my empire completely without the consent of my fellow 'leaders'. While Frieza would simply march in and take over, I at least attempt to ruse my intentions in some sort of diplomacy. And that is precisely what makes me the perfect leader, if I do say so myself.

I've achieved all that I have ever dreamed of, with the exception of one tiny thing. One miniscule blemish on my record... I have not dealt with the gaggle of fools who dub themselves the 'Z senshi'. True, I have obliterated everything they once held dear (with the exception of each other, though I imagine they are growing sick of each other considering the conditions they must be living in), but that is not enough. I have set out from the very beginning to kill Kakkarott, and I mean to do just that, along with eliminating his weak little companions. With one exception, of course.

Delectable little Bulma Briefs.

'Little' probably is not the best adjective to describe her anymore -- she would be twenty-one years old now, mature by human standards. When I had assocations with her, she was still a child, though her sexual prowess, I am not too proud to admit, would suggest otherwise. Hence, 'delectable'. Yes, I realize that I am a clever bastard, and no, my sexual attraction to the female does not in any way equate to emotional attachment.

The passing of three busy years has done nothing to dim my memory of her. I cannot seem to adequately explain my obsession for the ningen. I have certainly encountered women more skilled in bed in my life, and I have beheld women more beautiful than she. I won't even go into how ridiculous I find her love for her friends to be. What was so fascinating about little Bulma was her uncanny duality.

On the one hand, there was innocent Bulma -- all smiling purity, rosy pink skin, and almost childlike curiousity about any new knowledge that was presented to her. On the other, the human had an intellect that I have never seen the rival of in all my travels. Besides my obvious sexual interest, there was something else at work, something much more powerful. I recognized something in her that made her twice as irresistable to me.

She would be the perfect asset to an empire -- a prolific producer of original, ingenious weapons as well as a possesser of charisma akin to my own (ask anyone -- I'm probably the most charming fucker you'll ever meet). I've seen the weakling capture the attention of many people much more mature and superior than she effortlessly; this is a skill that is usually harnessed only by royalty. With this perfect combination, she is, understandably, indispensible to me. This realization came to me at about the very moment that I found myself staring down the barrel of her newest invention. How lovely _that_ was.

I could have easily taken the weapon from her and ended it right then and there... but why? Why would I break the spirit of someone whose fire could become so valuable to me? Let her grow hardened by the city streets, let her become frustrated with her mediocre life... let her come to me. It is because of that very reason that I have thus far only half-heartedly searched for her. She was born and bred in the lap of luxury and loves to be in the spotlight; it is only a matter of time before she cannot handle anonymnity anymore. Then, she will come to me willingly, and it will be so much easier to bend her to my will.

The flagship lurches as it breaks through Earth's atmosphere, waking me from my half-trance. As we descend, the bustling city, surrounded by a dark cloud of haze and industrial smoke, becomes visible. I do what I always do upon returning to the planet; I scan the burgeoning population for a trace of familiar ki, whether it belongs to Kakkarott, Bulma, or any of the others. As usual, there is nothing. I suppose I should not underestimate them; they were the ones who introduced the idea of ki suppression to me in the first place. Not that that ending out working out in their favor. The bunch of retards should be thanking themselves for the situation that they find themselves in; after all, they are the ones who welcomed me in, shared new attacks, and put a roof over my head. I chuckle to myself over the irony of it all -- life is truly an amusing experience, especially when you always come out on top (pun intended).

As I exit the ship and emerge into the biting late-autumn air, the crowd which has gathered to catch a glimpse of me -- their infamous leader -- for themselves shrinks back a little. I smirk in satisfaction, for it is only fitting that my subjects be terrified of me. Easier to keep them in line that way -- one thing that Frieza had done correctly. Radditz and Nappa are waiting at the entrance of my palace, erected two years ago, looking rather ashamed of themselves. That is never good.

"Our apologies, Emperor Vejita," Nappa manages to spit out. "But we have had no sign of the Z senshi, nor of the Briefs girl, as of yet."

"I expected as much," I hiss back. It is true -- I really did not expect them to be found when I returned. I have a feeling that Bulma will prove to be nearly impossible to track down, at least for a bunch of idiots such as Radditz and Nappa. "What the hell are you two holding off for, my birthday?"

"We are searching as hard as we can, Vejita-sama," Radditz replies, more competently than Nappa had been able to. "Just yesterday I appointed a new set of soldiers to assist us. If all goes well --"

"Spare me the details," I interrupt. "Just make sure that they are found in time for the first snow. I will not be happy if the people who could help bring my empire to its full potential turn into little popsicles."

"'People'?" Radditz questions. "I had thought that Briefs was the only one that you intended to keep alive."

Radditz was, in fact, correct. Originally, Bulma was the only one who I thought was of any use to me. But then, over the course of this last trip, I remembered something; something that made me want to return to Earth much quicker.

The Namekian, Piccolo, has telepathic abilities.

Being a Saiya-jin, I myself possess them, but not to the extent to which Namekians do. While on a nearby planet, I attended a banquet celebrating the 'agreement' between myself and that planet's pathetic authority figure. Present at that banquet was the leader's Seer. Since another person present expressed interest in obtaining a Seer for themselves, conversation at dinner that night was focused around the topic of which alien races were said to be telepathic. Ironically enough, Namekians were mentioned. I am well aware that the green freak would rather die than assist me in my goals, but, as he will soon find out, death is my least favorite punishment. There are worse things than death -- more entertaining things than death. The ability to be able to anticipate attacks, weaknesses, or rebellions is one that I would prefer not to live without. Call me greedy.

"Plans change. I want the Namekian as well. The both of them had better be found by the first snowfall, or you shall find yourselves in a rather... compromising... situation." I brush past them without another word, eager to get to my suite and wash up before attending to the accumulation of issues that I am sure is awaiting me in my throne room. Sure enough, I can sense the ki's of several of my advisors hovering in that very room, anticipating my arrival. It's stupid of them, really -- apparently they haven't caught on to the fact that I do not rush for anyone, especially not for sniveling little brains such as themselves. Offhandedly, I decide to deliberately make them stand around for a while. I am pleased to find that a steaming bath has been prepared for my arrival. After several mistakes, the palace staff has learned to accomodate my every whim or pay.

The water is soothing to my strained nerves. This last trip was not simply for recreation or even for diplomacy -- had that been case, I would have sent someone else in my place so that I would not have had to deal with the plethora of dumbasses present on the planet in question. Recently, rumors have been surfacing that this particular planet has been developing high-tech weapons capable of overpowering anything that I currently have in my possession. Understandly, this cannot be allowed for several reasons. One, I cannot even take the smallest risk in letting a potential threat get away from me. And two, I cannot have tongues throughout the universe wagging about how someone else is superior to my empire in any way. I personally went to the planet because I had to see this technology for myself. Despite what Bulma might have previously believed, I have extensive knowledge of certain kinds of technology, gained simply from traveling all over the universe under the command of a power such as Frieza, who had a multitude of resources at his disposal.

At night, after everyone had passed out, I searched the palace for the labs where these materials were being developed. After a few frustrating hours, I found them, and was quite unhappy with what I found. And when I say unhappy, I mean extremely pissed. The lying bastards had several weapons of mass destruction the like of which I have never seen, as well as various, more primitive versions of Bulma's own ki-draining gun. The perfect tools to take down an empire -- my empire, perhaps? Naturally, I sabotaged the weapons before returning to my quarters, subtlely enough so that they would not be able to tell until the things malfunctioned. Damn them all to hell. Of course, I immediately began making plans to heartlessly obliterate their entire population. Perhaps I will turn their fertile planet into a vacation destination...

With my current technology, it would be risking too much money and manpower to attempt to eliminate them; thus my intensifying the search for Miss Bulma Briefs and her surly green companion. Between Bulma's aptitude for inventing advanced weaponry and Piccolo's telepathy, carrying out this glorious genocide will be a non-issue. In fact, I plan to do some searching myself soon. After all, I haven't committed a satisfying murder in a while, and I owe Kakkarott a slow, painful death. Thinking about all this killing calms my anxiety right down, and I allow myself to slip into a trance as I languish in the hot, scented water.

_"Why don't you come a tiny bit closer..." _

_Tiny fingers beckon me in her direction, deeper into the water. Potpurri flakes swirl in the water and gather around her shoulders. She looks like a little pink mermaid, all lavender curls and flushed baby skin. It's fascinating how this girl, so painfully young, can emanate such sexuality. It coats my skin like the filmy water. With a smirk that earns me a tiny, satisfying twinge of fear veiled beneath long lashes, I oblige her..._

Quickly, I shake off the daze and sit up in the water. Any longer into that particular memory and I would have been... inhibited for a short while. It's been far too long since I've partaken in such meaningless pleasures. With three years' worth of stress and irritation pent up within me, I could sure as fuck use some fun. All the more reason to find the woman and her clown friends sooner. Reluctantly, I get out of the giant bath and ready myself for the duties ahead of me.

It's going to be a long-ass day.

"What's wrong with here?"

"We are only two miles away from our last place, you idiot!"

"What the fuck difference does it make, anyway? We've gone three years without being discovered, what's --"

Bulma tuned her companions out as she moved to walk ahead of them, reaching into her hood and massaging her temples in a useless attempt to rid herself of her pounding headache. Chichi, Yamcha, and Krillen had been bickering all morning, ever since they had left their previous shelter in search of a new one. This happened every time they moved; it was becoming a part of the routine, albeit a negative part of it. Not that there was anything positive about the situation.

"What do you know about safety? You're the one who almost gave us away last year when Radditz walked by!"

"Well if it hadn't been for your--"

Sensing a strong presence suddenly materialize beside her, Bulma looked up to meet the somber gaze of Piccolo. She offered a grimace and nodded towards the others. "Don't you just love when we all get along?"

Piccolo ignored her wry attempt at humor. "Listen girl, there's something I have to talk to you about. Something important."

Bulma, not one to dismiss the fact that Piccolo seemed to have a sixth sense about things, immediately became serious. "What is it? Please don't tell me that Vejita's somewhere around here. Have you noticed that everyone seems especially tense today, too?"

He had noticed, and that was exactly what he wanted to talk to her about. Bulma was a smart girl, but she had not completely figured it out, not that he had expected her to. "Yes, I have, and there is a very good reason for that --"

"Bulma! Check this out!" Goku burst between the pair, showing some semblance of his former carelessness. "Come over here! Piccolo, you too!"

The Namekian rolled his eyes at the Saiya-jin and followed reluctantly. What he had to speak to Bulma about was of the utmost importance, and nothing that Goku could get excited about could possibly matter more at this critical point in time. He made a mental note to pull Bulma aside later, when she could give what he had to say her full attention. Meanwhile, Goku was pulling Bulma into a nearby alley, leaving their bickering companions to wait for them on the street.

"What in Kami's name are you so worked up about?" Bulma demanded shortly. "We have to keep moving. Even Piccolo said that something's going on today, we --"

"Take a look at that," Goku said, his voice hushed as he pointed to the end of the alley. "and try to tell me that it isn't worth the stop."

At the end of the alley lay a lone, unmoving figure. This in itself was not unusual -- Vejita's men liked to rough people up and crime ran rampant in the streets -- but what was so noteworthy about this particular figure was what was sitting next to it. Bulma made an exclamation of happiness and jogged over to crouch beside the figure. Piccolo and Goku were close on her heels.

"I'll be damned," she murmured, picking up the leather bag that had apparently fallen out of the dead man's jacket. "This thing must weigh two pounds!" Excitedly, she opened the bag and dumped its contents on the ground in front of her, where it would be concealed from the view of those on the street. On the ground before her twinkled enough coins to keep them fed and clothed for months. "May Kami bless whoever finished off this selfish prick!" Hurriedly, she began gathering the coins and shoving them into her bag, glancing over her shoulder defensively.

"See? I told you it would be worth it." Goku looked proud of himself as Bulma stood up and the telltale sound of jingling coins rang through the air. "Looks to me like Vejita's lackeys did us a favor for once. You know what this means, right?"

Bulma gave Goku an incredulous look. He was about to bring up one of the most sensitive topics among the group -- the possibility of getting a semi-permanent living space. "Don't even say it, Goku. If you had even the smallest hint of common sense you would know that getting a place to live would be like signing our own death warrant."

Piccolo shook his head and left the two in the alley to argue. They had gone through this many times in the past. Bulma had won before, and she would win again. Though everyone liked to loathe her for her supposed part in their current situation, her word was usually the one they lived by. The Namekian did not mind this -- of all the Z senshi, he found Bulma to be the sharpest and least annoying. He would sooner listen to her than Goku any day, despite the hero-worship that everyone else had for him. On the street, the three others were still on-and-off fighting, idiotically drawing attention to themselves. He growled and blended into the crowd around him, not wanting to be associated with the conspicuous humans in any way, shape, or form.

He was surprised he had stuck with them for so long, honestly. He was usually a loner and probably would have struck out on his own long ago if it were not for the strange feeling he got whenever he was around the Briefs girl. Being telepathic, he was used to getting strange hunches about things, but this one was very different in that it was persistent. Whenever he considered leaving, something at the back of his mind pleaded with him to stay close to Bulma, for his own sake. It had nothing to do with liking her or thinking that she knew what to do; it was more akin to the sensation that she was the only life raft and they were all on a swiftly sinking ship. He could not place it, and it frustrated him because he had always felt that her life was inextricably linked with Vejita's, and in this situation that seemed to be a terrible thing. At any rate, Piccolo could not bring himself to leave, and it was moments like this one where he had to pay for it. Releasing an enormous sigh of impatience, Piccolo closed his eyes and began to meditate to quell his temper.

It was going to be a long day.

Nappa guffawed as the weakling he bumped into fell back on their ass, no match for his enormous bulk. He enjoyed harassing innocent citizens so much that he could do it all day, every day. This day, however, he had business to attend to. After receiving his orders from Vejita upon the prince's return, he had immediately set out to search for the stupid Earthlings. In the meantime, he had decided to take out his frustration on someone. Having had a little too much fun, the burly Saiya-jin had actually killed the person and dumped the body in a random alley. Now, he was returning to it, because he had forgotten to check the man's pockets for anything interesting. He didn't really need whatever he might find, being a high-ranking and wealthy person within Vejita's empire, but he had nothing else to do and stealing had always proved to be amusing. Also, if the person was carrying any sort of I.D., he could doublecheck that it wasn't anyone who had been important to Vejita's empire.

Finally, he reached the district where the alley was located. A small group of hooded figures was engaged in an argument nearby, but Nappa paid them no attention. He wanted to search the body and get on with it -- there would be untold amounts of pain in store for him if the human girl was not found by Vejita's deadline. The entrance of the alley loomed before him.

He turned the corner and was faced with something that he had not expected -- two other people stood near to the body, fighting. What was with everyone today? Nappa thought to himself as he stalked over to the pair. They were both hooded, so he could not make out their identities, not that it really mattered. With the exception of Vejita, he was the strongest being on this planet. If they had tampered with the dead man's belongings, they would soon find this out for themselves.

"You! Weaklings!" he greeted in his booming voice. The two people jumped about two feet into the air, clearly caught unawares. As they turned to him, Nappa was shocked to discover just who they were. Standing before him was none other than Kakkarott and the coveted Bulma Briefs! Nappa could have jumped for joy. "Stay right where you are -- you're mine now. Vejita-sama is going to love this..."

Goku could hardly believe his eyes. Nappa must have been keeping his ki suppressed, because he had not sensed his approach at all, and apparently neither had the meditating Piccolo. Beside him, Bulma was equally flabbergasted. Unlike her companion, however, an escape plan was already formulating in her mind. Nappa might have been ridiculously strong, but if her memory served her correctly, the same could not be said for his intellect. Very inconspicuously, she reached for the knife that was belted to her waist.

"You'll never have us without a fight," Goku announced with false bravado. He immediately adopted a fighting stance, though his heart was pounding from the knowledge that he could not win. "I'll die before Vejita gets what he wants!"

Nappa burst out into cruel laughter. "He's already gotten everything he wants, with the exception of your pretty little friend and the green man. Feel free to drop dead at any time. He has no use for you."

Before Goku could reply, Bulma moved from his side to approach Nappa. She put down her hood, revealing what Goku recognized as her most flirtatious pout. "You finally found me. I suppose you win." She stood before Nappa, still wearing her submissive expression, while Goku looked on in disbelief. She had to be up to something, he decided. "Take me to your leader."

The huge Saiya-jin initially looked stunned by Bulma's charismatic approach, then proud of himself. "Ha! I knew a dumb ningen like you would not be hard to capture!" Then, in response to her flirtations: "I can see why my prince would be so anxious to get a hold of you... perhaps I'll have some fun with you before I take you to the palace..." With an excited grin, he grabbed Bulma waist and pulled her closer to him.

The girl's reaction was immediate. In a flash of deft movement she pulled her knife from its hilt and slashed it across the Saiya-jin's groin, earning her an ear-splitting howl of pain and a blinding reactionary flash of ki. Wasting no time, she took off, closely followed by Goku. As they ran, they yelled for their arguing friends and Piccolo to follow. By then, they had noticed Nappa's presence and did not question the orders of their two friends.

Back in the alley, Nappa fell to his knees, clutching himself as he experienced what was quite possibly the worst pain of his life. This, however, would be nothing compared to the beating he would receive from Vejita when he heard about this. He had been kneeling in the alley for less than five minutes when Radditz landed beside him, immediately adopted a fighting stance. When he saw that his fellow Saiya-jin was alone, he looked around in confusion.

"What the fuck happened here?" he demanded, eyeing the body and the pool of blood growing beneath Nappa's knees. "I felt your ki skyrocket."

"Stop gawking at me and go after the humans, asshole!" Nappa growled from behind clenched teeth. "Vejita's going to kill me... I'm never going to be able to fuck again..."

"Ha! You'll be doing the universe a favor, then." Radditz crossed his arms skeptically. "I don't see any ningens around here. Stop blubbering like an idiot and tell me who did this to you."

"Bulma... Briefs..." Nappa growled. "Evil little whore... went that way!"

Radditz's eyes widened in realization. In a flash of blue ki, he took off after them.

Bulma gritted her teeth in tension as they tore through the streets, desperately escaping the scene of her crime before Nappa came or sent someone after them. Perhaps it had not been wise to make the burly man so angry, but she had really had no choice. Besides, it had worked, hadn't it? She tried not to think about how pissed Vejita would be when he found out that he had nearly achieved his goal and what might result from that. As far as she knew, he hadn't personally conducted much of the search, but with this last incident, that might very well change. The prospect of the Prince himself chasing them rather than just his companions terrified her.

"Good call on that one, Piccolo!" Chichi spat, out of breath and clearly angry. "Aren't you supposed to be psychic? You definitely didn't warn us about this little encounter!"

The Namek didn't even honor her with a response. Bulma couldn't really blame him. Chichi was just taking out her fear and anger on him -- they all knew that Piccolo's sixth sense came and went without warning.

"There!" Yamcha called out, gesturing to a large abandoned building. "Looks like a good hiding place to me."

"Bad idea," Goku interjected, his face suddenly blanched. "I just sensed something -- Radditz is coming. He's gaining on us!"

Bulma felt her stomach drop. Nappa was one thing, but Radditz was much more dangerous. While Nappa certainly was the brawn, Radditz had the brains. He was a cocky motherfucker, but for a good reason -- they had had a few close calls with the Saiya-jin already. With him so close, there really wasn't any other option but to split up. She herself chose to hide rather than run. Quickly, she ducked into a small, cramped shelter that had apparently used to be someone's home. Her ocean-hued eyes peered through the cracks in the wood, surveying the street outside.

Radditz, ironically, landed right in front of her shelter. The pedestrians on the street easily recognized him and scattered in all directions, scared for their lives. It wasn't often that one of Vejita's guards showed up in the ghettos of the city, and whenever they did it meant death for someone -- or many someones. The Saiya-jin scanned the immediate area with his dark, almond-shaped eyes, his long hair blowing in the wind. Bulma held her breath and tightened her hand around her knife, still wet with Nappa's blood.

Then, there was an unexpected movement from a building across the way. Krillen and Chichi had apparently decided to stick together -- dumb move -- and had made a grave mistake. It was quite possibly the last one they would ever make.

Faster than the eye could see, Radditz shot over to them and seized them by the back of their shirts. He dragged them out of their hiding spot kicking and screaming, laughing maliciously. Bulma should have felt torn at this moment between attempting to save them and sacrificing herself for their benefit, but the fact was she did not. Not at all. She simply sat and watched as Radditz manhandled her friends.

"Hello there!" Radditz greeted them with a huge grin. "What have we here? A cueball and the mate of my beloved estranged brother, Kakkarott. Quite the accomplishment on my part, wouldn't you agree? I've been looking for you for a long time now."

Krillen and Chichi squirmed desperately in his grip, tears streaming down both of their faces. They knew that there was no hope for them. If Goku or Piccolo had been nearby, they surely would have come to help already.

"Now, Vejita-sama has no use for the two of you, save for one thing," Radditz started, his voice civil and pleasant, yet threatening at the same time. "Reveal the location of Bulma Briefs and the Namekian, and your deaths shall be quick."

Bulma stiffened. She knew that either one of them would give her location away in a second if they knew where she was. Especially Chichi, who had always been jealous of Goku's close friendship with her.

"She went that way!" Chichi immdiately exclaimed, pointing her bitchy little finger in Bulma's direction. So predictable. Like clockwork, Krillen nodded in agreement, having the decency to look slightly ashamed of himself. "Please don't kill us!"

Before Radditz could come and drag her out by her hair, Bulma stood and exited her hiding spot, dropping her hood as she emerged. She had a feeling that if she made Radditz search for very long, it would only end up worse for her. The Saiya-jin chuckled in triumph as he quickly recognized her.

"Hello, my dear, how are you this fine afternoon?" he asked with a little, mocking bow. He looked her up and down, taking in her shabby clothing and the bloody knife that she clutched. "Oh how the mighty have fallen! You look quite different than when I last saw you a few years ago. Though I must say that I like the grown-up version of you better..."

Bulma shuddered as he licked his lips. The perverted Saiya-jin would like this rugged, bloodstained version of her better.

"Alright, here's the plan," Radditz proposed. "You surrender yourself, and I grant your little friends the honor of a merciful death. You really can't lose -- you'll have rid yourself of these annoying bastards and you'll be on your way to a much better life at the palace. If you choose to resist me, however, your friends here are going to be in for a world of pain. Vejita really has perfected the art of torture."

Chichi and Krillen, the two 'friends' who had just sacrificed her to the Saiya-jin without any hesitation, looked to her pleadingly.

_**. . Bulma . .**_

This should have been one of the biggest dilemmas of my life. Right now, I should be desperately going over fond memories of my two friends in my head, thinking of all the great times we had together and such. None of this is occurring. Instead, I'm thinking of something else, something completely different.

If I refuse Radditz's tempting offer and he takes them to Vejita to be killed in some horrific manner, will it attract the attention of Goku, Yamcha, and Piccolo? I suppose if it does I could always run off and strike out on my own. It would be much easier to remain hidden that way... Or should I give in to sweet temptation and let Vejita have me? These are not normal, healthy thoughts running through my head. These are the thoughts of a cold-hearted, selfish bitch. Admittedly, that is just what I have become. It is most definitely what I feel like as Chichi and Krillen put on their best 'save me' faces. I feel like a bitch because as I look at them, I think that they are pathetic. Just like he did.

_The Z senshi filed out one by one, each thanking my mother and I for our hospitality. Mom smiled at me, proud of the enormous Thanksgiving dinner that we had just hosted._

_"Oh, Bulma, you are so lucky to have such sweet and handsome friends!" Mom gushed as she shut the front door of the mansion and hurried into the kitchen to oversee the cleaning bots as they made quick work of the pick-up._

_As I turned to go up to my room -- after dealing with all of my rambunctious friends and their antics, I was ready for a nap -- I felt a presence behind me. Guessing who it might be, I turned and found myself face-to-face with the Saiya-jin Prince. My heart skipped a beat, but not from admiration. My reaction to the dark man was more akin to fear, despite our... associations as of late._

_"'Lucky'?" he repeated incredulously. He leaned up against one of the columns lining the ornate foyer. "I would hardly call you lucky. Those fools are nothing."_

_"Its easy for a man with no friends to scorn those of others," I retort, against my better judgement. I seemed to be doing a lot of things against my better judgement lately. "You're too arrogant to appreciate anyone else anyway."_

_"You are different than they are," Vejita observed. Though he might have been complimenting me, it did not feel like it. His gravelly, accented voice made everything seem like an accusation or a threat. He moved closer, close enough to play with a lock of my long hair, observing its unique lavender color. "You may try to fool yourself, but you know that it's true."_

_"What are you trying to say, Vejita?" I sense that he is getting at something, but I cannot determine what. He is such an enigma. I know he is hiding something from us. I have always known._

_"You and I are more alike than you and those pathetic friends of yours," he says, the words rolling off of his tongue -- the man could have made slow suicide sound appealing. "We recognize opportunity when we see it, we can see people's weaknesses... we are of a different caliber than those low-class simpletons."_

_I am extremely nervous with Vejita in such close proximity. Odd, considering our affair, but logical all the same since all that we really shared was sex. "Your point?" I ask, pulling the lock of my hair out of his grasp._

_He is smug; he noticed my discomfort. "You don't belong with them. You don't need them -- you will never need them. They are completely expendable."_

_"I would never dismiss my friends like that," I counter indignantly. "Never. I'm not heartless like you."_

_His evil laugh followed me chased me upstairs to my room, where I sat trying to figure out just what kind of game Vejita was playing with me._

"What'll it be, sweetheart?" Radditz asks, giving Krillen and Chichi a brisk shake and knocking me out of my reverie. "I don't have all day. In case you don't recall, Vejita-sama is a very impatient man."

Resolutely, I lift my chin and make my decision. May Kami forgive me some day -- Vejita had been right.

"Fuck you." Then, I ran, leaving Radditz, Chichi, and Krillen staring after me, each wearing an identical expression of horror.

**A/N: **Will Piccolo ever be able to talk to Bulma? Will Goku and the others realize what Bulma has done? To be continued... In the meantime, please remember to leave a review!

Lady Rhapsody


	3. Chapter Two

**. . . . Camouflage . . . .**

Lady Rhapsody

**. . Two . .**

Goku, Piccolo, and Yamcha slowly emerged from their hiding spots, which had thankfully been close to one another, the moment that they felt Radditz's ki signature stop moving. Simultaneously, Krillen's ki skyrocketed. The three glanced at each other worriedly, but before anyone could react, there was an enormous flash and Radditz could be seen streaking across the sky towards the palace. Piccolo squinted and noticed with a sinking feeling that he was carrying two figures along with him. He was not the only one who had noticed.

"Oh Kami!" Goku exclaimed, his eyes following the retreating form of Radditz. "Who does he have? I can't tell with his ki being so high -- its blurring the identities of the other two!"

Piccolo knew that no matter who it was, the Saiya-jin was going to take a huge blow. Though relations between he and his wife had been strained as of late, the woman had borne him his only son and had been with him since adolescence. And if one of the figures happened to be Bulma... well, then they were all screwed. The prospect of Vejita getting his hands on the knowledge that she possessed was a terrifying one.

"Bulma!" Yamcha suddenly shouted, bringing Piccolo back to attention.

Indeed, Bulma was sprinting in their direction, knocking pedestrians carelessly aside as she approached. The Namek scrutinized her closely as she came to a halt before them, panting for breath. Her eyes were guarded and her normally rosy skin was pale. He did not know whether to believe that it was from general fear of Radditz or from having witnessed something gruesome. He was reminded that he had not yet been able to talk to her alone -- it was especially important that he do so now that they had been discovered and some of them had been captured.

"What happened, Bulma?" Goku demanded impatiently, grabbing her shoulders to force her to meet his eyes. "Tell me! We just saw Radditz scramble for the palace like a bat out of hell!"

The girl sighed heavily, her face morphing into an expression of sorrow and compassion for her distressed friend. "Radditz took them," she managed to get out between deep breaths. "Krillen and Chichi... he's taken them to the palace, probably to be questioned by Vejita himself." Her eyes said it all -- the two would be tortured for information regarding their -- more specifically, her -- whereabouts.

Goku released his hold on her, letting his arms drop limply to his sides. Piccolo did not feel sympathy very often, but it was hard not to now. It was bad enough for Goku to lose his son, but now he had lost his wife, too. The Namek set a hand on his shoulder, gripping it reassuringly. "He may not kill them, Goku -- it wouldn't be Vejita's style and you know it. He'll most likely hold them until he finds the rest of us."

Bulma looked relieved at Piccolo's statement and was quick to agree. "He's right, Goku. Vejita will probably want to deal with all of us together. In the meantime, we have to press on. We're not doing Krillen and Chichi any favors by not being cautious." With a resolute frown, she started marching deeper into the city, leaving the others to follow.

"Be strong, Goku-chan," Yamcha said as he embraced his long-time friend. "I'm sure that they'll just be imprisoned..."

Piccolo shook his head as he followed the slight form of the human girl, overhearing Yamcha's naive assurances. It might not be Vejita's style to just kill them off without an kind of fanfare or warning, but it was also not his style to simply toss them into a dungeon until they were found. He had no doubt in his mind that Chichi and Krillen would be subjected to all kinds of horrors, and that Goku would most likely never be reunited with his wife again.

Ahead of the others, Bulma stared at her feet, trying to push Goku's devastated expression out of her mind. No matter what she had done, Chichi and Krillen would have been doomed, and that was a fact. She owed neither explanation nor apology to anyone. Besides, not matter what happened, they had to move on and push forward with their lives. It was either that, or share in the fate of their two unfortunate friends, whatever that may be.

_**. . Vejita . .**_

The humans, in chains on the floor before my throne, are blubbering like fools as I casually approach and take my seat. Radditz is standing over them, covered with their blood and looking quite frustrated. The second that I was alerted of Radditz's 'accomplishment', I ordered him to do some preliminary beatings, just to assure compliance. I am simply not in the mood to banter back and forth all night in order to gain the information that I want.

"Explain," I demand of Radditz. "Why do you bring me these two and not who I have asked for?"

"It is the result of random occurrence, Vejita-sama," he started, giving the bald man a swift kick to the ribs when he began to squirm. The disgusting midget human had the audacity to cough up blood on my beautiful black marble floors. "Nappa was out dicking around when he ran into Kakkarott and the Briefs girl. They had apparently been pickpocketing the very person that Nappa killed. They managed to get away from him, thanks to the girl -- she pretty much castrated Nappa. The scientists in the medical wing say that he has lost the ability to procreate."

I cannot stop myself from chuckling at this piece of information. Little Bulma Briefs managed to bring down Nappa? Very amusing indeed. I motion for Radditz to continue.

"I was out patrolling another part of the city when I felt Nappa's ki flare up. Naturally, I went to investigate, since the only being who would warrant powering up on this piece of shit planet would be Kakkarott. When I got there, Nappa pointed me in the direction that they had fled to. I found these two immediately, and lured the Briefs girl out using them." Radditz looks nervous as he presents this piece of information, and rightfully so.

"Do mean to tell me that both you and Nappa had the girl in your immediate grasp, and yet she still managed to escape?" The ningens on the floor start sobbing again at my angry tone of voice. I growl at them, and they immediately shut up. "She castrated Nappa; what's your excuse?" This should be interesting.

Radditz looks confused as he explains. "Well, I attempted to make a bargain with her -- she would have had to surrender herself to save these two. She -- well, she refused my offer and ran, leaving these two at my mercy."

Interesting indeed. I move from my comfortable seat on my throne and pace on the raised platform it rests on, processing this. I had expected Bulma to be hardened by her new life, but to this extent... I had never anticipated this. She had pulled a heartless manuveur -- the very vice that she had always disdained so much in me. This was better than anything I could have hoped for. By the time she comes to me, she'll be completely conditioned for the life that I will require of her. My anger at Radditz and Nappa's failure is actually quelled by this change in Bulma.

"What will become of these two, Emperor?" Radditz asked. "I can kill them now if you want. You have made no mention of plans for them."

Initially, I did not have plans for anyone but Bulma, Piccolo, and Kakkarott, but as I stare down at my two newest prisoners, something comes to mind. Several things, in fact -- but one will have to wait until the woman is found. "I suppose I could dispose of them, but the entertainment that that would provide would be pretty fleeting, would it not?"

Radditz, sensing that I have something better in mind, grins. Sick bastard. "Yes, it would. What did you have in mind, Vejita-sama?"

I step off of the dias, towards Kakkarott's mate and the bald man. They shrink away from me as if I carry some kind of plague -- their reaction makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Scaring the shit out of people is definitely one of my top ten favorite occupations. "Since women without some sort of sexually-transmitted disease are so rare these days, it would be a shame to let a perfectly good one go to waste." I give Kakkarott's mate a nudge with my boot, earning me a shriek of terror. Music to my ears... "She's a bit plain for my tastes, but I suppose that she'll serve the occupants of the palace well enough. She'll go to the servants quarters, to be used as a whore or whatever else is called for."

"Goku will come for me!" the annoying woman shouts. Her unpleasant voice makes me angry again. "He'll save me and kill you!"

I roll my eyes and nod to Radditz. He delivers a blow to the back of head, effectively knocking her unconscious and, thankfully, silent. The baldy starts to cry -- what a fucking disgrace. On Vejitasei someone so weak and womanly would never have been allowed to call himself a warrior. "And as for cueball here... send him to the med wing. I'm sure there are a few scientists looking for a test subject. Perhaps they can cause hair to grow on his head... and his balls."

Radditz starts to take the humans from the room, looking a bit too content for my tastes. I stop him with a clearing of my throat. He halts and turns slowly, unsuccessfully concealing a look of dread. Smart man.

"You didn't think that I was going to let your failure go unpunished, did you?"

The remaining Z senshi travelled until dark before at last stopping at a crowded hostel many miles from where their friends had been taken. Goku and Yamcha wearily wandered inside to see if there was any space available, leaving Piccolo and Bulma alone. The human woman immediately pulled out a dainty little cigar and lit it, releasing a deep sigh as she exhaled the sweet-smelling smoke.

"What was it that you wanted to talk to me about?" she suddenly asked, glancing up at Piccolo tiredly. At his look of surprise, she smirked. "I didn't forget about it. I'm smart enough to know to at least listen to what you say."

The Namekian nodded, acknowledging her point. "You're not going to like what I have to say, but please shut up and pay attention anyway."

Bulma lifted an eyebrow, intrigiued. "Fair enough. Thanks for the warning, I guess."

"I know what happened back there," Piccolo started gravely, studying Bulma's face for a reaction. "I know the decision you made."

She said nothing -- simply lifted her chin ever-so-slightly and set her mouth in a resolute line. "I don't know what you're getting at here, but --"

"I'm not accusing you of doing anything wrong," Piccolo quickly recovered. Personally, he would have made the same choice, but then again he hadn't had the long-time friendship with Chichi and Krillen than Bulma had had. "I am simply using this to warn you of something -- this time you made the correct choice, but next time might be different. If you give in to temptation and surrender yourself to that bastard Saiya-jin, it will be the end of us all. You must realize what you would truly be giving up to Vejita -- it isn't just your body. It is your mind that he needs; he needs your technical genius. You must never allow him to have it!"

Bulma narrowed her eyes defensively as Piccolo's tone hardened. "If you think that I would just offer myself to him like some kind of idiot, then you have another thing coming. I know what's at stake -- if he gets his hands on some of the knowledge that I possess, then the universe is basically his. Am I correct?"

"Vejita will eventually find you," the Namekian hissed quickly, seeing Goku coming out of the hostel towards them. "But don't let him have _all_ of you."

"There's room, guys," Goku announced. "Yamcha's already setting up a place to sleep."

"Very well," Piccolo replied, holding his intense eye contact with Bulma until he turned and entered the dingy building.

"I'm right behind you," Bulma snapped, before Goku could say anything further. "Go on inside."

Too tired and depressed to question her tempermental answer, the Saiya-jin went back inside, leaving Bulma alone with her thoughts.

_**. . Goku . .**_

The floor of this hostel is quite possibly the most uncomfortable I've experienced yet. On top of the plethora of thoughts running a million miles per hour through my head, my awkward sleeping position prevents me from getting anything even remotely resembling sleep. Yamcha snores heartily beside me -- he's developed a ridiculous talent for falling asleep instantaneously, no matter where he is. Bulma is conspicuously still missing. Piccolo is laying down with his back to me. I don't even know if Nameks actually sleep. Judging from what happened today, I would put my money on him meditating rather than dreaming. Not that I care whether he notices me leaving.

Carefully, I make my way around the sleeping (and some slightly more, ah... active) bodies that crowd the floor of the hostel. As I step outside, I am greeted with a burst of chilling air. I scan the immediate area for any sign of Bulma, but she is nowhere to be found. She wouldn't have wandered too far away, would she? I do a quick scan of the area and finally find her, which is quite a feat since there seem to be a lot of people in this district.

She is a few blocks away, on a rooftop, which she usually does when she wants to be alone. I used to try to make a joke out of her gutter-climbing skills, but that stopped being funny really quickly when I realized how much that time means to Bulma. She seems to find some kind of comfort in watching the stars -- she's conducting some sort of search, I think. When she believes no one's watching her, her wide eyes scan the sky for something, something important. I think that when she's alone up there, staring at space, she can almost forget about what's at stake. Or maybe she just thinks about Vejita. I'm not as dumb as everyone might think -- I see that she thinks about him a lot. She always gets the same look on her face when she's reliving memories of him: glazed-over eyes, dreamy half-smile... sometimes she even blushes. That's right -- Bulma Briefs, blushing. That might have been easy to picture three years ago when she still had some kind of innocence, but now... it shocks me every time.

Eyeing the building that she is residing on top of, I sigh. I would give anything to be able to levitate to the top, but even that small exertion releases my ki signature for Vejita or one of his cronies to sense. So, I start the long climb. I'm impressed with Bulma; this is one of her best yet. When I finally reach the top, I see that Bulma has been watching my trek up the building.

"I guess being a Saiya-jin doesn't really make that much of a difference when you can't use your ki, eh?" she asks, looking a little amused.

She turns away from me again to lie on her back and stare up at the sky, which is crystal clear this night. I lay down a few feet away from her. We sat in silence for a long while, her searching for whatever it is she's always looking for up there. I am tempted to ask, but I know that if I did, she would shut down or get angry with me for being nosy. So, instead, I observe her out of the corner of my eye. I had thought that Chichi's capture would have done away with whatever kind of attraction I feel for Bulma, but as I watch her now I am seeing something quite different. Bulma looks even better to me now. She's a survivor.

Every inch of her oozes strength, yet femininity at the same time. Her long lavender hair is ragged and slightly unkempt, yet still retains its sheen and, I can only imagine, its softness. Her once rounded young body has become long, lean, and muscled. The planes of face are still delicate, but there is something there that wasn't before -- her cheekbones are sharper, maybe. The biggest give-away of that small surviving bit of her former self are her eyes. The dreamy sky blue color that she has possessed for her entire childhood remains, though the emotions passing through it tend to distort its pureness sometimes. Nonetheless, I can still see it. Even her clothes ooze toughness -- from her boots, the knife slung low around her waist, her practical, rugged jumpsuit... she could be the female Indiana Jones. I resist a tiny chuckle at that mental picture.

"Why are you always looking at me like that?" Bulma's annoyed question brings me back to cruel reality, where she is hardly a friend and my wife is in the clutches of Vejita. Her blue eyes are narrowed at me, diverted from their stargazing.

I try to think of a plausible lie, but not a one comes to me. "I... I just..."

Bulma turns over from her back to her side, facing me. There is an odd look on her face -- almost feral. Its terrifying. "You just what? Spit it out, Son-kun."

My mental blank is not remedied by her impatience or scrutiny. "Its nothing, I just..."

"You just want me," she finishes for me. At my shocked expression, she actually chuckles. "Don't look so surprised. You don't hide it very well. You may love Chichi, but you lust for me. You're not so innocent as you would have everyone believe -- you are a Saiya-jin, after all." She gets that strange look on her face again, more intense this time. "Believe me, I have learned a thing or two about the power of the Saiya-jin sex drive."

I am frozen in place; did Bulma really just call me out on my feelings? For the life of me, I cannot settle on a reaction. I simply lay there and stammer like an idiot. She smirks, looking an awfully lot like Vejita, and crawls over to me. Though she has almost no ki to speak of, her aura sizzles with sexuality -- that special something that lends it its unique signature. My arms actually erupt in goosebumps as she leans over me, her lavender curls brushing my face.

"If you want me, Goku, then take me," she whispers, her breath hot on my face. Her face is closer to mine and I can see into her eyes; I immediately discover what is going on when I see that they are brimming with tears. Reluctantly, I sit up and gently push her away from me. The temperature of the air around me seems to drop ten degrees without her presence.

"What you say might be true, but its not what you want," I say gently. She looks bewildered. I feel sympathy for her suddenly -- she truly misses Vejita, aches for him to the point where she would do something so strange as give herself to me, but she would never admit it to anyone. "Why don't you just let those tears fall, Bulma-chan? You need release more than anyone."

She is enraged; she jumps to her feet and glares down at me. The tears have disappeared. "Crying won't do me any good! Crying won't help keep me hidden from him, and it sure as hell won't make me feel better! Don't you dare feel sorry for me, Son-kun! I'm just fucking fine!"

I watch as she climbs back down to the street below and heads for the hostel, leaving me alone on the rooftop.

_**. . Bulma . .**_

The hostel is quiet as I return and make my way to where the others, minus Son-kun, are sleeping. With a heavy sigh, I collapse into the empty space between Yamcha and Piccolo. The floor is hard and uncomfortable, but no more or less so than any other space I've slept on since taking to the streets. I could fall asleep upside down in zero degree weather if the situation called for it.

"Could you two have at least waited until Chichi was gone for more than a day?" Yamcha, apparently very awake, hisses under his breath at me. I ignore the snide comment, though considering what just happened on the rooftop, there was some validity to the statement.

I try not to dwell on my strange actions. I don't know what came over me; all of a sudden I felt as if I were actually attracted to Goku. Since I am positive that that is not the case, I brush it off as everything getting to me. Hell, I'm surprised that attempting to seduce Goku is all that I did. I turn my back to Yamcha, who I know is waiting for a reaction, and close my eyes. The stars are still imprinted in my mind.

_He is out there again, in his regular spot, his regal profile illuminated only by the moonlight. The stars are reflected in his black eyes; the stars are the only things that seem to ever make them shine._

_He does not acknowledge me as I approach. Though I am, as he dubs me, a "weakling", I am fairly easily able to climb to this particular part of the roof from his balcony. I cannot pinpoint exactly why he sometimes allows me to sit here with him, but the wise choice is not to push my luck by asking. Vejita sits silently, pensively, his attention focused on the heavens while my attention is focused on him. The usual._

_After a good length of silence, I steel my nerves and speak up. "What are you looking for?" I ask, following his line of sight to the blackness above._

_He does not answer immediately -- by no means did I expect him to at all. "I am not looking for anything. Are you always this persistent?" I have asked him the same thing several times before, I realize._

_"You have never told me what it is that you do up here. I can't see you just chilling up here for the hell of it."_

_Black eyes show me the tiniest hint of amusement. Its the closest thing I'll ever get to affection. "I am a warrior; a warrior always takes careful note of his surroundings so that he can always be prepared. I wouldn't expect your race to know anything of this."_

_"The stars are a million miles away and your home is here." The warm summer breeze caresses my face; I close my eyes to savor the feeling. When I open them, Vejita is watching me, his stony expression giving away nothing. "You have nothing to prepare for; we are safe."_

_"This Kami-forsaken place will never be my home," he growls. "My home was destroyed many years ago, though it is still visible from here. And you are as ignorant as Kakkarott if you think that you are ever safe."_

Irony is truly an amazing thing.

_Ah. There it is. As he turns back to the sky once again, I examine the section of sky that he is looking at more carefully, taking note of the brighter spots in the area. When I return to my lab, I will look up sky charts and figure out which star is in fact Vejita-sei. "Vejita-sei's distance from Earth must be considerable if it can still be seen from here."_

_Vejita grimaces; I imagine that to him home is much farther away than even I can fathom. He is so out of place here; a ruler -- a space pirate even -- trapped on this backwater planet among a population which knows nothing of his existence. Perhaps this is why my attraction to him is so strong. No one on Earth could possibly compare. Besides, I know what its like to be different from those around you -- my intelligence and social standing have always set me apart from my peers._

_"By studying the sky, I can calculate my exact location in the universe." He flashes me an eerie smile, something that is altogether sinister and sends an unpleasant chill down my spine. "I have found that domination requires a thorough knowledge of all of a planet's nuances."_

I thought nothing of it at the time, but I realize now that Vejita had essentially warned me of his true intentions, once again. Lucky me.

When I woke up that following morning, I holed myself up in my lab and pored over star charts for the remainder of the afternoon. After hours of scrutiny and several cups of coffee, I was able to pinpoint Vejita-sei's exact location. Vejita, surprisingly, had been looking in just the right direction. I should not have been surprised at this -- he has traveled the universe extensively and probably knows more of astronomy than I could ever hope to.

Now, whenever the sun dips below the horizon, I find myself scanning the sky, dreading the day when that tiny pinpoint of stellar light disappears, taking Vejita's home away from him forever.

Somewhere, in one of the towers of his dark palace, perhaps Vejita is watching too.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry about the long wait on this chapter -- blame the holidays. Please remember to leave a review!

Lady Rhapsody


	4. Chapter Three

**. . . . Camouflage . . . .**

Lady Rhapsody

**. . Three . .**

It was the morning light filtering through the grime-streaked windows of the hostel that woke Yamcha before the others. Sore from his awkward sleeping position, he stretched before slowly getting to his feet. Most of the people in the room were still sound asleep. Piccolo and Goku had their backs to him, but Bulma was sprawled out on her back, one arm shielding her eyes from the sun that she subconsciously detected. So much like he used to find her in his own bed, back when things were the way they were supposed to be. Back when they could enjoy a day without fear or despair.

He allowed himself another moment of simply staring, searching for any traces of the old Bulma in the visage of this... stranger. Pieces of her -- that flamboyant girl -- remained, surprisingly. In sleep, the anger and guardedness was gone. The planes of her face seemed softer, he supposed. With a heavy sigh, he turned to leave.

But then he remembered something.

Quickly, without even thinking, Yamcha reached for Bulma's cloak, which lay in a puddle of dark fabric beside her. He extracted the hefty coin purse that they had pilfered the day before, pocketed a few of the valuable coins, and then returned it to the cloak. There was no telling what would happen to them at any given moment, and the bonds of friendship apparently meant nothing anymore, so it couldn't hurt, he reasoned. Besides, Miss Briefs had money-making... assets... that he did not possess. On a whim, he also swiped one of her little cigarettes.

Judging from the position of the sun, it was still fairly early; the others would not be awake for a few hours. Yamcha strolled into the streets, people-watching as the city's merchants began to set up shop for the day. Evidence of Vejita's control was ubiquitous; the royal crest of Vejita-sei was posted everywhere, and burly soldiers roamed the streets, seemingly looking for trouble. He pulled up his hood and made his way to one of the busier areas of this district. Even at this early hour, it was bustling with activity as people started their days. He lit the cigarette to calm his nerves -- he would never get used to having to constantly fear for his life.

It was in places like this very market that the Z senshi gained their news. It was vital to their survival to have an idea of what Vejita was up to; the Saiya-jin, admittedly, was an effective leader and made the rounds of the planet that was his base of operations every once in a while. It would be a catastrophe if he happened to show up in their area unexpectedly. Inconspicuously, Yamcha pretended to browse the wares of random merchants, eavesdropping on nearby conversation. The multitude of species that had shown up on Earth since Vejita's ascension sometimes meant language barriers, but over the course of the past three years the Z senshi had been able to pick up some of the Intergalactic Common language used by traders and diplomats. Funny -- prior to all of this, Yamcha couldn't even speak perfect English.

People were buzzing about Vejita's return to Earth still, though he had been back for several days now. The merchants seemed to think that he was concerned about something -- whispers of enemies on faraway planets making weapons or something like that. According to the people Yamcha listened in on, Vejita had gone into the 52nd district the other day and killed a few people out of pure frustration. That might have been plausible if Vejita had been somewhere where the common population were permitted to crowd him and whatnot, but the 52nd district was pretty exclusive -- it consisted of mainly townhouses for visiting diplomats, upscale bordellos, and expensive shops. If he had allowed himself to kill there, where word of his actions would reach first-class circles around the universe, then something must be very wrong indeed.

Yamcha suddenly had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. If Vejita truly was experiencing trouble with other planets, then he would naturally want to bolster his resources and eliminate the issue -- fast. And that, he knew, entailed finding Bulma. Bulma would give him the power to crush anyone who dared object to his absolute power. Vejita was not a patient man by any means; he would want to find Bulma as soon as possible. Trying not to look hurried, Yamcha started back to the hostel.

A couple of soldiers stood nearby; they were harassing a merchant who did not 'pay them the proper respect'. When Yamcha began moving away, they hesitated in their actions and watched him more carefully. To recover from his sudden departure, the human stopped at the closest merchant to him -- an orange-skinned man selling alcohol in large tankards -- and quickly selected something. The soldiers, not at all intrigued with shopping, diverted their attention back to their previous victim.

Clutching his heavy container of alcohol, Yamcha wound back through the allies and misty morning streets to the hostel. The others would not be happy to hear of Vejita's lastest grievance. Suddenly the tankard did not seem like that unwise of a purchase.

**. . _Piccolo_ . .**

When Yamcha returns, I am waiting outside of the hostel entrance. The instant he left, I felt a powerful foreboding that something was about to go terribly awry. I wanted to catch him before he could go in to see the others and cause any trouble; I want to assess any damage that might have already been done. He is practically running towards the hostel, clutching a large container of something. I speculate that he did some pickpocketing of his own within Bulma's cloak while she was sleeping, but decide to not bring it up and cause unnecssary conflict. The sounds of the humans' voices when they are angry is irritating beyond belief.

Yamcha sees me and spares me the effort of initiating conversation. "Vejita killed some people in the 52nd district. There's talk of planets making weapons and rebelling --"

"We have to leave," I interject.

Yamcha nods and goes inside to tell the others, still carrying the tankard which I now assume contains alcohol. The implications of this piece of news will be mutually understood. If Vejita felt angry enough to cause such public damage, then the issue must be critical. He will need Bulma now more than ever. His previously intensified search will now be that much worse with extra inspiration behind it. With a heavy sigh, I close my eyes and attempt to get an inkling of what might be ahead of us. Though this news is bad in itself, the foreboding seems to overshadow it; there must be something else...

Nothing comes to me at first; I experience the strange resistant feeling that is associated with the future that I am not permitted to see. Then, a flurry of fleeting, random images barrage my mind.

_A flagship bearing Vejita-sei's crest hovers above the city, surrounded by smaller crafts, which rain blue fire down on the streets... Goku sobs, his entire body convulsing with emotion, clutching at a tattered piece of fabric... Blood creeping out from underneath a doorway... "Don't leave me---"... Bulma, clothed in nothing but sinister red light, levels a seductive look at someone from behind a delicate paper fan... The stars flickering out before my very eyes... Vejita lounging on his throne, practicing some sleight of hand with a bloodied dagger, surrounded by bones... _

Grimacing, I attempt to make sense of them all, to string them together into some sort of sequence, but all I can glean is a common feeling of hardship. Big fucking surprise. When I come out of my trance, Goku is leaning against the wall beside me. He has been watching me with wary eyes. Sometimes I think that the less-than-brilliant Saiya-jin is aware of much more than anyone gives him credit for.

"You don't look very happy," he says. "That can't be good for us."

"Things are never good for us these days," Bulma interjects, emerging from the hostel, cloaked and ready to go. I note how much longer her hair was in my vision than it is now -- I must have been seeing events relatively farther into the future than I usually do. "Let's get out of here. I don't think anyone can argue the fact that we have to find a better place to hide."

_"I am lonely."_

_"You will always be lonely."_

I push the intruding dialogue from my mind; I often hear random snippets of conversation from the past or the future, but without accompanying visions, it is almost impossible to decipher them. Besides, Bulma is charging ahead, set on getting as far away from this place as possible. With a sigh, I move to follow the others, but not without one more interruption...

_The dungeon is dark, damp, and gloomy; just as one would expect. It was the horrific sounds of pain and agony that truly gave the place it's evil atmosphere; that, and the scene of gore nearby. _I attempt to focus in on the blurry image, but to no avail -- I am not meant to see the details of this situation.

_"Make him say it." Vejita's eyes are red with bloodlust... bloodlust and something else. He looks deranged. _A shiver goes up my spine. I have never seen Vejita reveal so much of what he was feeling before -- whether this was a good or a bad thing, I do not know. _"Make him say it... or you will have to."_

_Bulma clutches a mean-looking instrument, clearly intended for torture. She is stricken with emotion, and she appears to have been tortured too. Her excessively thin body is smeared with blood, contrasting with her fine clothes and ornate jewelry. "I... I..." she stammers, but cannot seem to come up with a reply._

_The blurry figure strung up before them screams as Vejita barrages it with ki blasts, meant to inflict pain but not sweet, merciful death._ I struggle to make out the figure's identity; something about the screams strikes me as familiar. My effort is to no avail.

_"Ah," Vejita moves to stand behind Bulma, hissing into her ear in an unsettlingly intimiate fashion. "Then I suppose you are the one who must suffer..."_

"Piccolo!" Yamcha's annoyed voice breaks the vision, much to my frustration. "Are you ready? Bulma's already turned the corner!"

I try to grasp onto the last vestiges of the vision, but its already gone. With a heavy sigh, I quicken my pace to catch up with the others.

Vejita started his morning with a bottle of absinthe -- the one Earth drink that he could actually tolerate -- and a long line of a neighboring planet's enhanced version of cocaine. Radditz watched him from the entrance to the emperor's chambers, trying not to betray his misgivings. If Vejita were starting his day in this fashion, then everyone in his vicinity was bound to be miserable. Drugs and liquor only amplified the Saiya-jin's hostile personality; he used to unsettle Frieza himself when he was under the influence. Just the other day Vejita had gone on a rampage in the 52nd district after consuming an unhealthy amount of alcohol. Radditz cleared his throat, attempting to get his prince's attention.

"What the fuck do you want this early in the morning?" Vejita snarled in response. Carelessly, he threw the empty bottle over his shoulder, where it shattered into thousands of little pieces which fell to the floor like rain. "If you are here in regards to the 52nd district, then remove yourself -- the fools should not have approached me while I was in such a mood." He smirked to himself, his eyes feral like an animal's. "And their blood was so satisfying..."

"Uh, no, I am not here because of that, Your Majesty," Radditz replied cautiously. "I am here because one of your advisors has important news. He refused to speak of it to anyone but you."

Vejita wiped the traces of fine white powder away from his aristocratic nose and rose from his seat. "Send him to the throne room. I shall be there within the hour."

Radditz bowed and exited the room, all too happy to escape being in the presence of his superior while he was in such a state. Back in his chambers, Vejita blinked furiously to clear his mind after the initial effects of the substances he had consumed, striding towards the stairs that led to the top of the tower that housed his private suite. The advisor did not have to tell him what the news was about -- Vejita already knew. With a growl, he ascended the winding staircase which led up to his private balcony.

The city was bustling with activity even at this early hour, and a gray haze hovered over the streets. The pollution was a result of how busy the planet had become, what with it being his 'home' planet, but Vejita was not concerned over the issue. When it became unbearable, he would relocate to another planet -- somewhere tropical, perhaps. The Saiya-jin commenced his regular routine by sweeping his senses over the masses of ki that resided on the planet, searching for familiar signatures, but none were to be found -- for now. Frustrated, he headed back down to his room.

Though he knew the general gist of what the advisor was going to tell him, he could not simply brush the terrified little person aside. His informants, the existence of whom he kept secret in case he needed information on one of his own people, had told him the other day, before he had murdered all those people. The planet that had been developing weapons of mass destruction had not been doing so simply for their own motives; they actually belonged to a burgeoning alliance formed to oppose his empire. It was unclear as of yet just how many planets had joined so far, and who had orchestrated the movement, but he meant to find that out soon. And then make anyone and everyone involved wish that they had never been born.

This last bit of information settled it; he would go out and search for the Briefs girl and the Namek as soon as possible. His soldiers, including Nappa and Radditz, seemed unable to handle the job themselves. A ridiculous Earth saying about doing things yourself tickled the edges of his brain, but he stubbornly pushed it back. He had been in the company of ningens for far too long -- it was time that he started reverting back to his normal Saiya-jin ways.

He decided that he would start with Bulma and her little friends, just as soon as he found them.

_**. . Bulma . .**_

After traveling until dusk, we decide on a spot bordering on one of the many red-light districts in the city, where countless travelers pass through without any sort of recognition or rememberance that they had even been there. Its a perfect location, but as I soon discover, not a very comfortable one. Even with my hood up, men in this area tend to assume that I myself work in the brothels. I do my best to ward them off without shedding any blood, but it is extremely tempting to forget all decency and give them each a little something to remember me by. Kind of like what Nappa will have to look at every day for the rest of his life.

Night is falling, and much to my disappointment there are no nearby roofs to escape to. With a heavy sigh, I put out my umpteenth cigarette and head back into the empty building that has become our temporary home. It is a ramshackle, abandoned apartment complex that has definitely seen better days, even before it was abandoned. Goku built a small fire on the floor of one of the rooms, where everyone has gathered to savor the precious heat. Piccolo is meditating in the corner, predictably, but Goku and Yamcha are laughing about something. The tankard of Kami-only-knows-what sits on the floor between them, conspicuously open.

"I could use a night of just getting completely shitfaced," Yamcha was saying, looking like he's already halfway there. "And there's no better place to do so than right where we are. There are probably fourteen brothels within a stone's throw from here!"

"Brothels?" Goku repeated, looking less-than-sober himself. "Uh, I don't think that's a good idea..."

I watch as they each take another generous shot, straight from the tankard. After a moment, they finally notice my entrance. The tankard between them beckons to me -- despite my less-than-friendly relationship with Yamcha as of late, I have to agree with his words. Forgetting about all of this for just a few hours sounds like heaven... too good to be true. Worth a shot, at least.

"Goku's right on that one. Vejita probably has informants in places like those. Hell, his soldiers themselves are all probably there." I move over to the fire and swipe the tankard, taking a shot for myself. The alcohol is strong, but unfamiliar to me. Right away, a warm feeling envelopes my entire body. "I'm not even going to ask what this is."

"See? I told you!" Goku rubs in Yamcha's face.

"Whatever," Yamcha slurs. "A decent blow job probably costs more than month's worth of food, anyway."

We pass the tankard back and forth until the large container is empty. Piccolo remains in his trance, probably just to avoid us -- not that I blame him. Yamcha gets up and stumbles to the door of the room. Goku, cracking up, follows, almost falling on his face. I try to stand, but the alcohol has affected me more than I thought. I feel as if the room is spinning around me -- I wonder if the booze was laced with something else, as aliens seem to prefer.

"Where are ya going?" I manage to spit out. Finally, I am able to stand. I hurry over to them. Goku grabs my arms to steady my swaying body, even though he is having balance problems himself. Offhandedly, I note that it would take an extremely potent substance to effect a Saiya-jin. Why am I not passed out, or dead? I shrug it off -- I'll probably be one or the other very soon.

"I wanna see what all is here," Yamcha says, a lot louder than was necessary. "I'mma exploring."

I look over my shoulder; Piccolo has come out of his trance and is watching us. He does not betray a reaction save for the anger that is constantly etched on his face. I figure that if Piccolo doesn't see a problem, then there isn't one -- its nice to not have to have the final say in something for once. Yamcha had a great idea. I follow the men out of the room, into the dark hallway. Yamcha wanders into the first room that he comes across. I pause at the entranceway, but do not see anything of interest. Goku has contined on ahead. I follow him for reasons that I do not know, quickening my pace so that I can keep up with him.

"I want to go all the way to the top!" he exclaims, that childish, exuberant look that he used to constantly wear making a reappearance. He starts up the rickety stairway at the end of the hallway, jumping excitedly up each step. I follow a bit more cautiously, occasionally tripping over my own heavy boots.

"Maybe we can go on the roof," I reply. The stars will look so amazing right now -- they'll spin like the baby mobiles people used to hang above their children's beds. Did humans even procreate anymore? How many humans are left, exactly? Am I the only one who remembers those minute traditions? "Hurry!"

Suddenly, Goku trips over a step and collapses onto the metal stairs. I am not able to stop myself in time, and fall as well. My drunken mind registers that I am very close to Goku and that he is very, very warm. He tries to focus in on my face, his brown eyes intense but dopey. His movement is making me sick; I grasp his face to keep him still. His reaction is immediate. He kisses me, tentatively at first, then gradually more intensely.

His body is hard and strong as I move to lay on top of him. I close my eyes and just let the moment take me over. Goku's hands explore my body desperately, like this is the last minute of our lives. I feel so important, so desired, so... perfect. His need for me is blatantly obvious -- even the almighty Saiya-jins cannot hide their arousal, especially considering that the ones that I have encountered are much more well-endowed than human men. I rub against him in the way that I instinctively know will excite him. I revel in his undisguised obsession.

My influenced mind finds absolutely nothing wrong with comparing him to Vejita; hell, doing so doesn't even bother me like it usually does. His physique is well-formed and his hands strong, but in an entirely different way than his prince. Vejita's muscles are compact and bulging, whereas Goku's are long and lean, like a runner's. Goku would be a different kind of lover entirely, I suspect -- someone who makes sex a gentle act of love, not the hot, borderline animalistic experience that Vejita gave me. Vejita was so unpredictable, so dark... _He holds me down, his ki surrounding his body and mine in a searing blue light; I can feel his powerful muscles rolling beneath his dark skin as I dig my nails into his back, terrified yet enthralled with what was happening to me all at the same time... _Goku's hands slip beneath my shirt, and I gasp. This part of me has not been awakened in so long... so long.

Awkwardly, hardly able to support even his own weight, Goku carries me up to the next floor, where we sprawl out on the floor in the hallway. He is on top of me and yet not assuming any semblence of control. Did Chichi always initiate sex in their marriage? I guide his hands to where they should be; he drunkenly struggles with the ties of my pants. _It hurts but is the most intense pleasure that I have ever felt. His Saiya-jin canines shed my blood with the tiniest amount of pressure. I want to cry, but all I can manage is a scream: his name, just what he wanted to hear..._ Goku stops suddenly. He kind of falls off of me, his face devoid of all color.

"What are you doing?" I demanded, moving towards him. "Come back over here..."

"Goku," he stammers. "My name is Goku. Not Vejita."

I can only stare; this is about as alert as I can get while there is so much of that strange alcohol running through my veins. When did my memories blend into my reality? Calling Goku 'Vejita' at that moment was probably the worst thing I could have done. All that I am able to do is emit a small noise of protest as Goku stumbles over me and back down the stairs. I am alone. And drunk. Very, very drunk.

Rather than try to get to my feet, I crawl on my hands and knees to the stairs, where I maintain a death grip on the rusty railing as I climb. The roof -- I have to get to the roof. That's where the stars are. That's where I could make sense of it all, if there was anything to make sense of. My thoughts are blurry, running together like paints and turning into a stream of darkness.

After what seems like forever, I reach a door where the stairs end. I push it open with my entire body weight, which causes me to fall to the ground when the door gives way. Cool night air greets me -- and the stars. A sky full of bright stars. I crawl to the center of the roof, the concrete of the ground rubbing my hands raw, though I cannot feel the pain. Finally, I settle onto my back, watching the heavens as they spin in slow circles far above me.

"Oh, pardon me," a voice behind me says. "I was not aware that this roof was taken."

**A/N: **The wait for the next chapter will not be nearly as long -- I apologize once again. Please review!

Lady Rhapsody


	5. Chapter Four

**. . . . Camouflage . . . .**

Lady Rhapsody

**. . Four . .**

**. . _Goku _. .**

The stairs creak precariously as I struggle to make my way down them without falling. The rusty railing crumbles a few times beneath my tight grip; I can count the number of times I've been drunk before on one hand, which probably explains why I am having such trouble now. My vision keeps on tilting everything to the side -- too bad the alcohol can't make me forget what just happened.

I would have understood if Bulma had just pulled away without a word. We both know that what we were doing was wrong, what with the chance of Chichi still being alive and Bulma's impaired judgement. But for her to say his name in such an intimate moment just let me know that Bulma was not seeing or feeling me during our kiss -- she was wishing that I was him. That evil man who has caused us so much pain, who has murdered so many people... I might have wanted to see the best in him three years ago, even avoided giving him such a strong label as 'evil', but I don't have the same illusions anymore. I could never see any good in someone who has caused so much suffering. My drunken mind flies a mile a minute over all the memories I have of Bulma and Vejita interacting, and yet I still cannot see why she would be attracted to him when she had so many safer options. Like Yamcha... like me.

Somehow I manage to make it back to our little hideout room, where Piccolo is very much out of his trance and pacing frantically. Immediately I sober up by a good margin; I have never seen Piccolo express worry so openly. In the corner, Yamcha is passed out, hunched over the empty tankard. Piccolo searches the space behind me for any sign of Bulma, and, seeing none, growls a curse in what I assume is Namekian.

"Can you feel that?" he demands. "Clear your idiotic, drunk mind and reach out your senses!"

I close my eyes and concentrate as hard as I can. Indeed, there is something amiss in this immediate area. It doesn't feel like a ki signature; it is simply a feeling of intense... evil. My eyes snap open in realization. Piccolo recogizes my epiphany and bolts out of the room, towards the stairs, towards the spot where Bulma's ki still lingers -- the roof.

"It can't be!" I yell to Piccolo as I try to catch up to him. "If he were here, then we would have felt his energy, his ki, something!"

"He hid his true abilities for so long, there's no telling what he is capable of now," Piccolo responds, taking the stairs five at a time, his cape flapping out behind him. "Bulma's up there -- even if it isn't him, whatever is around is bound to be trouble and we can't just leave her vulnerable."

We reach the roof and burst through the door; and what we see stops us both in our tracks. My heart jumps into my throat, and Piccolo's ki skyrockets in response. Our worst nightmare has come to fruition, because standing on the roof with an unconscious Bulma tossed over one broad shoulder is none other than Vejita. My eyes are drawn to the droplets of crimson blood -- human blood -- that are still dripping down from Bulma. I know that he cannot afford to hurt her too badly, but my emotion gets the better of me. I have to fight to keep my ki from exploding.

"How nice of you to join us," Vejita says, his voice as seductive and chilling as I remember. He shifts Bulma so that she is cradled in his arms, revealing a nasty-looking blow to her head as the source of the blood. With a hand that is exaggeratedly gentle, he removes a few strands of lavender hair out of her face; his hand brushes over her chest appreciatively, crudely. "My, how my little flower has blossomed. I can understand why you would want to hide her from me like you have, Kakkarott. I hardly blame you for wanting her for yourself."

I try not to give him what he wants as he stares me down with his red-tinted eyes -- a crazed reaction -- but partly due to the alcohol, I cannot stop myself. "You bastard! I'll wipe that smirk off your face!" My ki bursts out around me, yellow and uncontrolled. I have never felt so unhinged before -- letting my power and temper get the better of myself is something that I have never done.

Vejita doesn't even flinch. Instead, he chuckles. Piccolo visibly shudders, and I can hardly blame him; over the course of his victorious ascension to power, he has morphed into the most terrifying thing we have yet seen. He is darker -- his eyes are rimmed in black and almost red, and the ki aura he is emitting is a burgundy so dark that it almost appears black. The waves of malice radiate off of him, even when he is powered down. The only reaction I receive from him is that deranged laugh.

"What's so funny?" I demand. "I've defeated you before -- I'll do it again!" Beside me, Piccolo seems torn between shutting me up and overreacting himself. In Vejita's arms, Bulma's face twitches in unconscious pain.

"You? Defeat me?" Vejita repeats, his smirk turning into a grin that is even more horrific. "Don't be so dense, Kakkarott -- if I had allowed you to see my true power that early on, I could have never achieved what I have now. I like to consider it my one good deed towards humanity -- besides putting it out of its miserable existence, of course."

"You don't honestly expect us to just let you stroll away from here with her, do you?" Piccolo asks from behind clenched teeth.

"Of course not. I intend to stroll away with all of you, not just the girl."

Before either Piccolo or I can react, Vejita has paralyzed us both with glowing cages of ki energy. I reach out to attempt to break the one surrounding me, but the moment I make contact I can feel the power being sucked out of me. I am at a loss for what to do; the more I struggle, the more of my energy gets taken from me and absorbed by Vejita. Where did he learn this technique? I have never seen it's like before, not as concentrated as this. Piccolo hasn't either, apparently; he is completely still, observing the energy surrounding him in disbelief. Vejita has been watching us this whole time with a satisfied look twisting the sharp angles of his face.

"You two just hold tight for a few moments while I find the other one -- the weakling," Vejita instructs, as if we actually had a choice. He places Bulma on the ground between Piccolo and myself, effectively making me feel even more pathetic. He disappears into the building, leaving behind a lingering feeling of dread.

"Kami," Piccolo says, shaking his head. "He is much worse than I had expected. At least when he was staying at Capsule Corp. he had some traces of decency and honor. There's nothing left to him but rage and hate."

"He even looks different," I observe.

Piccolo nods. "Satanic."

On the ground between us, Bulma emits a low moan, then goes still again. The wound on her head, just by her temple, appears to have stopped bleeding, thank Kami. I wonder what Vejita did to her before we arrived; if she was terrified or relieved to see him after I had left her alone. Regret overcomes me -- maybe I shouldn't have been so quick to leave her. She had been very drunk, after all. I raise my eyes to meet those of Piccolo, and I can tell that we have both come to the same conclusion.

Hope is useless -- its all over. He found us.

**. . _Vejita_ . .**

It was almost too easy -- easy to the point of almost being completely devoid of amusement. The whole lot of them, with the exception of the Namek, perhaps, must have been tanked, because for split seconds at a time, they released their ki signatures; from that point finding them was simple enough that Nappa could have done it. Like finding flickering little lightning bugs. I now lean against the railing of the roof of the shitty building they had been staying in, watching them sit in misery as I wait for Nappa and Radditz to arrive and assist me in bringing them to the palace.

Bulma is face-down on the concrete at my feet, occasionally shifting or letting out little noises of discomfort. When I landed on the roof and saw for myself what a fool she was making of herself in her inebriated state, I decided to spare her further embarassment and rendered her unconscious. As I watch her friends slowly grow more depressed as they realize how hopeless their situation is, I am regretting that decision more and more. I want her to be awake to witness their defeat. I want her to see just how ridiculous they all are, just like I told her all along. I gather a miniscule bit of energy in my hand and aim it at her.

"What are you doing to her?!" Kakkarott demands, watching me like a sad little insect.

Kakkarott is apparently too dense to realize that I need the girl too much to kill her, but I do not enlighten him. I release the ki and let it jolt her out of her unconsciousness. With a gasp, she awakens and struggles to shake off the last vestiges of the cheap alcohol she had ingested. I cross my arms and wait for her to react.

"Fuck," she grumbles, getting gingerly to her feet as she takes in her dismal surroundings. "It wasn't a dream."

"If this were a dream, then it would most certainly be a nightmare," I assure her, speaking so that the others cannot hear my words. "Look at them. Just as I told you at Capsule Corporation -- they are merely pawns of the more powerful player."

"And by 'the more powerful player' I'm assuming that you mean yourself?" Bulma snaps back, reaching up to gauge the seriousness of her wound and frowning as she recoiled her bloody fingers. "Honestly, can't you do anything without gloating? You've won, so shut up and get on with the show."

"You are much more insolent than I remember, girl." I do not know whether this is a good or a bad thing. Not to worry -- I'll have plenty of time to make that distinction. "But I shall do as you wish, just this once."

Nappa and Radditz arrive and land on either side of me, like clockwork. They laugh at Kakkarott, the pussy, and the Namek, suspended helplessly within their prisons of ki. When Nappa sees Bulma, he growls but does not meet her gaze. Out of the corner of my eyes, I see Bulma chuckle to herself, eyeing the slightly less prominent bulge in the front of the man's armor. I can hardly blame her; I would have been proud to do the universe that particular favor myself.

"Grab the weak one," I instruct them, motioning to Yamcha. "I want to deal with him sooner rather than later."

The ningen, who is still slightly intoxicated, actually screams when Nappa grabs him and drags him over to me. Bulma steps back from him, as if being even a foot farther away from him will spare her his fate. Not that she has cause to worry in the first place -- I have much better plans in mind for her, obviously. I regard the trembling, foolish little man at my feet.

"I hate you!" he shouts at me, sounding like a child. "I've hated you since the moment I saw you, you sick bastard! Even when you put on your 'nice' act and lived at CC, you never had me fooled!"

I roll my eyes and gesture for Nappa to silence this annoying tirade. Ironically, Yamcha's paranoid suspicions had been correct all along. A sharp kick to the testicles shuts him right up. I adjust my black gloves and address him, resisting the urge to simply eliminate him without any fanfare. I successfully quench that tiny, merciful urge. Who the fuck am I trying to kid? I'd rather make him suffer, any day of the week.

"The feeling is mutual," I inform him, crossing my arms. He shrinks back as I take a step forward so I can tower over him. "Except I would hesitate to call what I feel for you 'hate' -- hate implies that I actually care to acknowledge your existence. Either way, classifying what I feel towards you will not matter in a few moments, as you will be... unfortunately quite dead."

"You'll never get what you want from her," Yamcha rasps, starting to recover from Nappa's attack. "She might give you the technology that you want, but she will never want you. Not like she wanted me."

I am surprised that the weakling would even think of anyone besides himself at the moment of his demise, but apparently his wounds from Bulma's dismissal have not fully healed. What he says is truly ironic, mostly because it would take a full night for me to recall all of the times that the girl has been willingly moving beneath me... or on top of me... I laugh in his face. Beside me, Bulma regards him with something approaching pity. Her reaction gives me an idea -- a brilliant, amusing, spur-of-the-moment idea.

"I won't even try to ruin your cute little illusions," I tell him with a smirk. "I am thinking that perhaps you and your former lover should resolve these issues before it is too late." Both parties give me blank looks. Perfect. I do love a good surprise. "Girl -- come here."

"You must be crazy if you think I'm going to just go along with whatever it is you're planning," Bulma protests, standing her ground. Her mouth is set in a resolute line, and she looks positively fierce. I push my arousal at the change in her aside for later and instead seize her by the arm and pull her over to stand in front of me, her back pressed up against me.

I glance over her shoulder to acknowledge Kakkarott. "I've acquired quite a few new tricks since we last sparred, Kakkarott. Allow me to demonstrate one of them." Nappa and Radditz cackle as they realize what I am about to do.

I remove Bulma's bulky cloak and let it pool at her feet. "Look at your ex-lover down there, cowardly and insolent even in the moment of his death. However, I would never lower myself to taking the life of such an insignificant being, though it must be done... How do you propose that I work through this particular dilemma?" Despite the disgusting conditions that she has been surviving in for the past three years, she still smells sweet. I allow myself a split second of savoring her proximity to me, then open my eyes and start to channel my ki to my hands, which grip her tiny but strong wrists.

"What are you doing?" she demands, struggling to break the connection. Her body begins to glow with my ki, the color of fresh blood. Piccolo realizes what I am about to do and clues Kakkarott in. The pathetic third-class begins to struggle frantically, which only fuels my ki further. "Vejita, stop..." She goes limp for a moment as the power overtakes her. My ki channels to the girl seamlessly; she has more than a touch of darkness in her.

"Hold on tight, sweetling," I whisper. "Its time for you to give Yamcha your final farewell..."

**. . _Bulma _. .**

He is so different. He is the dark entity that I caught the barest glimpses of during our most intimate moments, when his walls would fall just the tiniest bit -- he is untouchable, inaccessable, terrifying yet alluring in the baseness of his evil. It is seductive to be within ten feet of that powerful presence; that being true, I cannot even find the words to describe what it feels like to have just a snippet of his ki flowing through me. Its like an orgasm that seizes your entire body; you cannot think, you cannot breathe, all you can do is experience it. The hypnotizing power even momentarily distracts me from the atrocious deed that Vejita is about to force me to commit...

I am about to murder Yamcha.

As the power builds up within me, taking over my body even though I possess no control whatsoever, all I can do is stare at my ex-boyfriend, the man who was my first, the man with whom I made so many memories with. Despite recent events, the thought of his death does in fact bother me. To lose him would be like losing the last piece of my young, innocent self -- he represents all that I used to hope for, all that I used to be. A ludicrous concept, really, but true nonetheless. My newer, sarcastic frame of mind is hissing at me to disregard what is happening -- Yamcha means nothing to me now, he has been a hindrance to my survival, an asshole even. I am torn, but I have no choice in my actions.

Vejita's grip is unrelenting; Yamcha must die by my hand.

The ki within me stops growing. I realize that this is just the smallest amount of ki necessary to kill someone, and wonder how warriors such as Vejita and Goku can handle even larger amounts of power without being consumed by it. A wonderful heat spreads from my torso to my arms, and finally culminates in my hands, which start to glow a rich red color. The color of human blood, ironically. Vejita shifts his grip on my wrists, my hands rise and stretch out towards Yamcha, seemingly of their own will. I try to fight Vejita's domination over my actions, but to no avail.

"Ask him if he has any last words," Vejita breathes into my ear, his voice persuasive and anticipating. "That would be such a nice touch, don't you think?"

I certainly do not have any desire to follow his orders, but my mouth opens regardless of that fact. I somehow manage to string together a sentence, though the words are not my own. Vejita's lips move in perfect unison with my own. "Say hello to your friends for me, and don't fret -- I'm sure that the Afterlife isn't as bad as people make it out to be."

Then, the climax; from my hands the power erupts in a flash of blinding burgundy light. My eyes close reflexively, so I am spared the sight of Yamcha literally disentegrating. I can hear Goku make a sound of anguish, but am unable to do the same. When I open my eyes, a splatter of blood is the only evidence that Yamcha ever knelt before me. Vejita's releases my wrists, and I crumple to the ground, my body weak from the loss of his ki energy. He is laughing; a sound that is enough to scare even me, who has slept prone beside him. This reality is worse than even my nightmares. Vejita is a whole different animal now -- the thought of living under his eye is disturbing enough to bring tears to my eyes. I do not let them fall; I am not a complete idiot. Tears are what he wants to see.

Vejita barks orders at Nappa and Raddiz in the Saiya-jin tongue. I pick up on words here and there, words that I learned while dissecting Radditz's scouter what seems like forever ago, but by the men's actions I can guess that Vejita told them to collect Goku and Piccolo. I assume that we are going to the palace -- that looming dark place that is ironically reminiscent of my personal vision of Satan's abode. I do not react to this realization. I just remain on the ground, my eyes locked on the blood before me. The despair that I pushed back for so long is coming back with a vengeance now. I can now see why I've been so detached; to feel is to hurt.

Dark, gold-tipped Saiya-jin boots block my vision of the blood. I slowly raise my gaze to meet the smoldering black eyes of Vejita. Dread causes my stomach to tighten into a knot. I have been strong until now... why is that resolve failing me now? He seems to recognize my uncharacteristic weakness and kneels down to meet my eyes. My heart races.

"Do not fear, little one," he says, reaching out to brush my blood-matted hair out of my face. "You enjoyed my presence once; you will learn to do so again."

Wordlessly, he surrounds me with some of his energy and I find myself following him to the edge of the roof, beside Nappa and Radditz, who are carrying Piccolo and Goku, who have both been struck unconscious. They take off, headed towards where the towers of Vejita's forbidding home impale the hazy horizon. Vejita retracts his ki energy and lifts me up into his arms.

As we speed over the dingy city, I register none of my surroundings; all I can see is darkness.

**A/N: **Please remember to review!

Lady Rhapsody


	6. Chapter Five

**. . . . Camouflage . . . .**

Lady Rhapsody

**. . Five . .**

When Piccolo's eyes finally fluttered open, the cruel reality of his surroundings made him want to slip into unconsciousness again. His superb sense of time told him that he had been out for many hours-- more than enough time for the Saiya-jins to deposit their prisoners here, but hopefully not enough time for Vejita to decide on the most painful death for them. Goku was confined in this horrific room with the Namek, but Bulma was conspicuously missing. Piccolo's ki sense told him that she was in the palace somewhere, not surprisingly, with the Saiya-jin Prince. Much to his displeasure, he could also feel the faint ki's of Chichi and Krillen nearby -- unfortunately it seemed as if they were all to suffer together, or used to ensure Bulma's cooperation in whatever sick plan Vejita was concocting. For once in his life, Piccolo felt fear twist his stomach into a knot.

Across the room, Goku seemed to be awake as well. He looked utterly defeated as he feebly attempted to fight against his restraints. When he felt Piccolo's eyes on him, he nodded in acknowledgement and ceased his struggle. Piccolo wondered if he had noticed the ki of his mate yet; he wondered if he would even care. The man's concern for Bulma's safety would be likely to overshadow everything else. The Namekian had never been one to get involved in the petty dramas of the Z senshi, but he was extremely observant, and he knew that Goku's attraction to Bulma was the crippling kind.

"I can't believe that it was so easy for them," Goku said quietly. The sight of Bulma's blood on the cement was burned into his mind and appeared now in Piccolo's as the Saiya-jin obsessed over it. "They barely had to power up."

Three years ago, Goku would have been proclaiming that they were not defeated yet; they were merely captured and needed to find a way to escape. There was no such talk now, and for obvious reasons. The room that the men were being held in was clearly a torture chamber -- it reeked of agony and death. And Vejita. Piccolo grimaced -- it figured that the disturbed man liked to do this part himself. After all, who in the universe could do a better job of it than he? He and Goku were held against the walls, rendered completely immobile by glowing ki-restraints at their wrists and ankles. No instruments of torture were present, but none were needed -- the Saiya-jin Prince had all the weapons he needed within his own body.

"Bulma is with him," Goku rasped, his hands curling into useless fists. It seemed as if Piccolo had been correct in his assumption -- Goku had not even noticed the ki of his mate nearby. Only Bulma stood out in his strained mind. "I wish I knew what he's doing to her, the evil bastard..."

"No, you don't," Piccolo corrected. Honestly, he didn't want to know either -- the lust that Vejita obviously held for the human girl had gone unsated for a long time, and that did not bode well for her. "Don't torture yourself. I have a feeling that there's enough pain ahead of us without bringing that into the mix."

"This is all my fault -- I allowed him to stay at Capsule Corp. when he was revived. Bulma would have refused him if I hadn't been so stupid and trusting of him, and she would not be in this situation right now."

"Don't be dense," Piccolo snapped. "You know as well as I do that no one can convince that woman to do anything other than what she wants. Besides, Vejita had already taken notice of her on Namek, long before he began to stay at her house. He would have gone after her whether they were sexually involved or not -- he needs the technology that she is capable of producing."

"Do you feel that?" Goku suddenly asked, perking up.

Piccolo was about to say that yes, he did feel the presence of Chichi and Krillen as well, but the Saiya-jin cut him off.

"Bulma and Vejita's ki's are surging," he observed. "Something's going on out there."

The Namek could think of a few reasons why the pair's ki's would be changing together, and none of them were positive. He merely shook his head at how pathetic Goku was being -- proving Vejita's opinion of him right for once -- and said nothing. He merely watched Goku as the man focused on the ki's of the two people who would most likely be instrumental in his demise. Eventually, he drifted into a trance -- his best attempt at sleep -- only to be rudely awakened minutes later by the slamming of the door into the wall as Nappa and Radditz entered.

"They look far too relaxed for my taste," Radditz commented, moving to inspect Goku as Nappa approached Piccolo. "It is the middle of the night, brother! Why do you not sleep like a normal person? Are the accomodations not to your liking?"

"What has Vejita done with Bulma?" Goku demanded, obviously not thinking clearly.

Radditz grinned from ear to ear. "Do not fret, Kakkarott -- she is being well taken care of by the man whom you address so disrespectfully."

Nappa chuckled. "We'll see how uppity the little cunt is after a night with Vejita-sama."

The look of pain and anger on Goku's face as he grasped the insinuations that the two men were making was enough to make even Piccolo feel sympathy. For reasons that he could not readily identify, he found himself obligated to lessen the blow of their statements. "Probably just as uppity as she has been after the countless other nights they have spent together," he retorted. "If she has survived those, then she will live through one more."

Nappa immediately backhanded him across the face, causing Piccolo's vision to go black for a moment. "Can it, freak! You forget that the ningen is being punished for making the Prince wait so long."

So much for that, the Namek thought darkly. It seemed that Goku was going to have to bear the complete brunt of what was really happening. Curious himself as to how far Vejita would go in harming Bulma, he reached out with his mind, trying to get the barest trace of what might have happened.

_She was being dragged by her long hair towards the end of a dark hall, where a set of enormous, ornately engraved doors awaited them. The Prince's hands were rough -- he spared her none of the pain that he used to. He was angry. She was going between being complete numbness and total panic. She did not know what was going to happen to her, but whatever it was would not be pleasant._

_"You have no idea how much I have missed you, little one."_

Radditz and Nappa were taking turns beating Goku into a pulp. Piccolo did not flinch as drops of the man's blood landed on his face and clothes -- his focus was not easily broken.

_Goosebumps riddled her exposed flesh, despite the searing heat that enveloped them. The tears she cried evaporated before making it even halfway down her cheeks. All she could see, all she could feel, was him. There was no escape. She did not even try._

_"And for that, you must pay..."_

They were upon him now. Glancing over Nappa's shoulder, Piccolo could see that Goku was unconscious again. There was a large pool of blood around him, but the warriors had purposely kept him very much alive. The suffering the man was going through was bound to be excruciating. The Namek looked the two Saiya-jins straight in the eyes as they began his beating. He wanted them to feel his disdain -- despite their power, he regarded them as trash.

As the pain began, Piccolo diverted his focus from Bulma's fate to that of Chichi and Krillen. If this much torture could be inflicted on warriors such as he and Goku, then he could not imagine what they had been put through.

The last thing he saw was Nappa's fist coming at his face, and then everything went dark.

She rose slowly, sore from the previous night's events. Her foggy morning vision revealed the disheveled bedroom of the guard whom she had been forced to entertain, and her senses slowly began to come back to her. She had never been a very sexual woman -- this new life, this new hell, was something completely and utterly unfamiliar to her. Though she had been used many more times than she could have anticipated in such a short amount of time, she still felt awkward and unsure, though she rarely was required to do anything but lay on her back and accept her bad fortune. Being a whore was not something that she wished to become comfortable with, but the whole ordeal would have been much easier if she had ever experienced something besides sex for procreation.

Chichi slid off of the bed and fell to the floor, her legs failing her. Her 'customer' had been less than gentle with her, and she was relieved that he had morning duty patrolling the palace. She had absolutely no wish to face the man who had so mercilessly violated her again. Grimacing at the thought of the long day ahead of her, the human woman began gathering her slave's garb and left the room, straightening it up as she went. Vejita had been kind enough to give her more to do than just fuck whoever requested her services -- she was required to clean and do any other odd jobs that were assigned to her by the slavemasters.

She closed the door behind her as she left; she used to slam them to relieve her anger, but had quickly learned that shows of disrespect did not go unpunished here. She received daily beatings after she returned to the slave barracks every morning, to 'remind her of her place'. To avoid further pain, she bottled up her bitterness and despair, becoming a shell of the woman she had previously been. She tried not to dwell on her previous life very much -- she became so ashamed when she thought of her husband or her dead children knowing how she spent her nights, unwilling or not.

The collar that palace slaves were forced to wear at all times began to vibrate, warning her that a powerful shock was forthcoming if she did not hurry to return to the barracks. Despite her hatred for the man, Chichi could not deny that he was very clever -- any slave who disobeyed did not even have to be tracked down to receive punishment. All that the slavemasters had to do was press a button, and the most excruciating electric shock you've ever felt was delivered to you. Chichi quickened her steps -- she was almost all the way across the palace from the barracks, and had no desire to be punished.

Since being imprisoned here, she had only seen Krillen once. He was being prodded from his holding cell to a med lab along with a few others by a burly guard. He had looked right at her, but there had been no recognition. She suspected that he had been heavily drugged -- she heard horror stories about the Frankenstein science and dangerous biological weapons that Vejita ordered tested in his labs. She did not know whose predicament was worse -- all she knew for certain was one thing.

This was all Bulma's fault.

Word had spread quickly around the palace that the prince had found the group of stragglers and brought them back to the palace the night before. No one had been able to catch a glimpse of them yet, but anticipation was high, much to Chichi's irritation. If she ever saw that bitch again, she just might be able to sacrifice herself to a beating just so that she could spit in that girl's conniving little face. She had surrendered Chichi and Krillen without a second thought, condemning them to a fate more horrible than she could even imagine. No, Bulma Briefs would never know the miseries that she now did because she had been low enough to fuck the Saiya-jin Prince before he turned into a complete psychopath.

A part of Chichi was excited when she had heard the news -- perhaps Goku was one of the prisoners -- but that excitement had quickly disipated when she thought it through more. Vejita hated Goku more than he hated all of them combined; if Goku were indeed captured, he was as good as dead. Chichi did not dare to hope that she would ever see him again, and if she did get that lucky, that he would be in one piece. Instead, she pressed on, slowly losing more and more of herself until she became exactly what Vejita wanted her to be.

Invisible.

_**. . Vejita . .**_

I am awake much earlier than she, before dawn, as it always used to be. She is curled into the fetal position beneath the dark sheets, her complexion pale as she sleeps off the damage she sustained from last night. The candlelight casts shadows on the sharp planes of her face, and I note that I like her much better this way -- feral almost, but lacking that hard edge. She would have hardly been attractive if it were not for that unique softness that she cannot help but maintain -- I suppose the girl will always look like something of a child, at least to me. The fact that this only strengthens my attraction does not bother me in the least -- innocence, or at least, the appearance of innocence, has become quite the rare commodity these days. It is valuable, and I want to be the sole owner of this commodity.

She does not even stir as I disentagle myself from her and get out of bed. I do not break my morning routine for her sake; I rise, bathe, and follow the stairs up to my tower, where I watch the sun rise and the city come alive.

Though I have resided on this planet for several years now, I cannot become accustomed to how strange it's sun is. My memories of Vejita-sei reveal bloody red sunlight, and most of the other planets that I have been to have always had multiple, darker-hued suns. Earth is the only planet with the nerve to at least look cheery and bright when it's inhabitants are so fucking miserable. I lean against the railing and watch as the guard outside the palace changes and the streets below begin to fill with people. I am only half-heartedly engaging in this part of my routine, however -- the situation with my newest group of captives is refusing to be ignored.

Deciding what to do with Kakkarott's disgusting mate and little bald friend had been easy -- all I had to do was designate them to jobs that would take their spirit away. As for Piccolo, all that needed to be done was convince him to serve as a kind of oracle to me -- and I have never been lacking in skills of persuasion. Bulma's fate has been decided since the Capsule Corp. days, though getting her to go along with it without transforming her into a complete robot will take some effort. Though she is as ambitious as I, I highly doubt that she will want to participate in the arsenal-building of such an empire as mine. She would be horrified to hear of some of the things that have transpired since she went into hiding. I cannot help but smirk; I have accomplished much in a small time frame.

Kakkarott's future is the only variable in the equation of my vengeance on the Z senshi. Killing him would be immensely satisfying, but such a speedy end seems so... anti-climatic. I have all the time in the world to decide what to do with the pathetic excuse of a Saiya-jin, however, and prolonging my decision only means more suffering for him. Who am I to protest that? If there were a way for me to cause him constant pain for the rest of eternity, then I would certainly do it.

I sense the ningen girl begin to stir. The sun has risen; I cast one last glance over the city streets below and head back down into my chambers. The sun's rays shine through the empty liquor bottles that we deftly emptied the night before and cast eerie green shadows on Bulma's naked form. She is awake, but not completely aware. I sit in a recliner across the room, in a corner that is still immersed in shadow, and watch her.

She tosses and turns a few times, fighting off the last remnants of sleep. I can recognize the old Bulma in her, but I imagine that it would be almost impossible for the untrained eye to do so. I am reminded of many other mornings at Capsule Corp., where I watched her as she slowly awakened, unbeknowest to her. I do not harbor emotional attachments -- they only give your enemies something to exploit -- but I cannot deny that I have some sort of fascination with this creature. Dwelling on such a thing will gain me nothing, so I push my thoughts aside and simply observe. I have to study her behavior carefully for a little while; I have to determine the best ways to keep her cooperative.

Despite my wishes of keeping her somewhat complacent, I do not regret my actions of punishment upon her last night. The evidence of my anger is bourne on her nude body in the form of the occasional bruise or scratch. I admit that I lost control of myself at certain points -- I normally possess the self-restaint to refrain from leaving any marks -- but I could do nothing to hold back the waves of rage that overcame me as the stubborn girl refused to give in. I realize that I contradict myself here: the girl's fire is what first caught my eye, it does not make sense for me to try to quell it. I am once again dwelling on my feelings -- Kami, that's twice since the little bitch has gotten here -- so I quickly clear my mind. It is better simply to act without thinking about what led you to making the decision. Action is much more effective than words.

Bulma sits up, and the sheets fall from around her shoulders to reveal her form. She has become hardened, almost malnourished -- that shall have to be corrected. I crave her softness... I need to see that innocence that is so precious come back, at least in appearance. She does not notice my presence in the darkened corner, and I prefer it this way. Observation is going to be my weapon of choice against her ridiculous conscience, if indeed some semblance of it remains. She starts to move, and winces in pain. I will have to send her to the med-wing; she is of no use to me as an invalid.

She scans the room, checking for my presence, I assume, then slides off of the bed. Her legs swiftly give out, and she crumples to the floor. Even this movement is graceful. Despite her malnutrition, she is just as I remember, not too far gone. A string of curses spills from her mouth, proof that her years of hiding have indeed strengthed her personality. She reaches a pale arm up the bedframe, which she uses to pull herself to her feet. She gingerly makes her way to the table where the empty liquor bottles are. She selects one, lifts it up to the sunlight, and consumes the last few drops. Smart girl -- the buzz will take the edge off of her pain.

I follow her as she catches sight of the stairs leading up to my tower, sticking to the shadows. She has not even bothered to clothe herself -- not that she has anything to hide. I suppose that a good number of people saw her exposed body last night -- I do not regret this punishment either. Modesty is worthless. She slowly makes her way up the stairs and leans against the balcony railing with an exhale of relief. I can almost feel her suffering from the stairway, where I hide.

The tower is much too high above the streets for anyone to make her out, but she pulls her long hair in front of her chest anyway. She studies the streets below, her expression angry. The reasons behind her anger are probably too numerous to examine -- the state of her life at the moment is certainly not lacking in hardships, I muse with a smirk. She could have made it easy on herself those three years ago, but she chose her fate. I cannot say which way would have turned out better -- I like this newly acquired strength, to a point. I decide to make my presence known.

"You've gotten better at that," she says as I step into the light. She watches me as I approach and stand at the balcony beside her, mistrust blatant in her blue eyes. "Sneaking around, I mean."

"I have always been good at it. You have never detected me unless I wanted it that way, girl," I retort. It is true, of course. She grossly underestimates my abilities, as usual -- her perspective has been skewed by the poor company she has been keeping. She will soon come to realize how powerful I truly am; I hold more power than Frieza could have even dreamed of.

She shifts so that she can face me and respond, but is seized with a fit of pain. I watch her apathetically, then seize her by the chin, looking into her eyes to gauge her pain. She stubbornly meets my gaze, but cannot successfully conceal her agony. Her suffering is very arousing; I quell the sensations and detach myself once again. "You will have to be sent to the med ward. I cannot have you limping around like a weakling."

"How sweet of you to care," she snaps. Her fire has been ignited, not supressed, by the streets. I smirk back at her and am amused to see that she shrinks back a little in fear. Have I changed that much? "That actually would have been a nice thing for you to say if I knew that you weren't concerned solely for your own selfish reasons."

"Don't be so dense, onna. My reasons are not entirely selfish; you seemed to enjoy one aspect of them enough..."

She avoids my eyes because we both know that I am right. Despite my attacks upon her, she was still able to moan my name and at times be quite willing to reciprocate my actions. Perhaps she harbors a fascination with me akin to the one that I possess for her. Impatient with this small talk, I beckon for her to follow me back downstairs. Surprisingly, she follows, not that she has much of a choice.

"Bathe -- I am sending a tailor in to provide you with a wardrobe," I instruct her. "I do not think you stupid enough to attempt to escape, but if you should attempt to do so, know that your punishment will make last night look like nirvana. I will send a guard for you later, when I have attended to my other business."

I do not wait for her reply. Instead I exit quickly, resisting the temptation to ignore my packed schedule and waste the day in bed with the creature.

**A/N: **Please remember to review!

Lady Rhapsody


	7. Chapter Six

**. . . . Camouflage . . . .**

Lady Rhapsody

**. Six .**

_**. . Bulma . .**_

_The sensation of his body against mine feels like home; his skin is hot to the point of almost being too searing to bear, yet it is smooth as glass. He is more perfect than I remembered, even more skilled than I recalled in my dreams. Though it is painful, I am still unable to stop myself from moaning his name, giving him the reassurance that I am indeed unable to resist him. It would be degrading if I were not so blinded by passion. Kami, sex with Vejita is simultaneously the most frightening and most pleasurable act one could ever partake in. _

_Disgustingly, I almost feel honored to have the experience. Such is his power..._

_"Everything," he whispers against my hair. Even his voice has changed -- he has dropped his stony guise and reverted back to his true personality. His words are rough, menacing, yet so persuasive at the same time. He is mesmerizing, and I wonder how he concealed it for all that time. I am in awe of him. "I can give you everything... You would possess more power than anyone in the universe, you could have everything you ever dared to wish for."_

_I know that what he says is true. I could be his empress, bejeweled beyond my wildest fantasies, waited on hand and foot by the entire universe. I could be leader to the most elite scientific community, I could do anything I wanted, have anything I could dream up. I know that Vejita is not capable of love, but it is obvious that he is as fixated by me as I am by him; I have never been able to define what it is that we share. Could I give up my conscience and forget all that I ever held dear for him?_

_"I have always told you, you are different than the others... They belong in the ghettos, on the streets with common trash. You, however, you belong here..." He caresses my face, his black eyes intense. "I know that you have dreamed of it, of living in the palace, of ruling with me..."_

_I want to be strong, but his succulent words are toxic to my morality. Is ruling the universe alongside the Saiya-jin Prince not strong? I cannot believe how my mind has been so warped, how I have strayed so much from my determination to not give in to the man I know to be so unapologetically evil._

_"Join me, and you will want for nothing."_

The fragrant bathwater has grown cool, which revives me from my memories. I had been surprised upon stumbling into Vejita's bathroom -- everything I was learning about him contradicted what I had known of him back at Capsule Corp.. Even his bathtub was luxurious, made from black marble that matched the floors and complimented the rich tones of the tapestries and the gold of the fixtures. The slave who seemed to be assigned to me had mixed fragrant oils into the water and sprinkled the surface with the petals of exotic, alien flowers. Despite the terrible knowledge of my situation, I felt hard-pressed to not relax as I lounged in the most comfortable bath I have ever taken.

The slave, a silent, orange-skinned woman, noticed my unrest and began to drain the tub. I stepped out, the soggy petals clinging to my naked skin. I was tragic figure in the enormous bathroom mirror; the white petals contrast against the ugly purple of the bruises which Vejita had so graciously marked me with, and my hair hangs to the small of my back in long lavender ropes. The slave tried her best to not stare at my malnourished body as she wrapped me in a silky robe and began to drag a brush through my hair.

After my hair had been painstakingly brushed, scented, and restored to cascading curls, the slave bowed and left the room as soundlessly as she had entered it. I was left alone with only my pale robe and the gleaming collection of empty liquor bottles. Vejita had said something about a tailor; I assumed I would be outfitted with a countless number of the ornate, alien gowns that I had seen the dignitaries who roamed the planet wearing. Until the tailor arrived, I resolved to search the lush set of rooms for any clues about Vejita's nature.

I had a feeling that I would need every advantage I could get to survive the new life that had been forced upon me.

I did not know what to think of all of this. Upon waking up this morning, an overwhelming wave of despair had washed over me like a tidal wave, threatening to suck the life right out of me. As I became more aware, however, I knew that I was not ready to give up yet. Though Vejita had taken everything from me, I could not deny the strange consuming passion that he brought to my life, nor could I completely dismiss the opportunities that he had presented to me.

In this post-apocolyptic world, a person could do one of two things: give up or fight to survive. Giving up would have been easy enough -- walking through the halls of Vejita's palace as an empty shell would certainly have been simpler than struggling to construct a new life.

I do not know what drove me to take the hard road. Perhaps it was my own greed -- Vejita had, after all, offered me everything he knew I had ever wanted. I chose to believe that I selected this fate because it was the only one that presented me with a chance to save as many innocents from Vejita's black heart as I could.

I had not been able to save my friends, but perhaps I could atone by stopping Vejita from purging at least one planet, from committing genocide against just one race. The thought of what might be happening to Goku and Piccolo threatens to cripple my resolve, but I quickly empty my mind of all thoughts of them and determinedly go about my task.

Though these chambers were not nearly as spartan as his at Capsule Corp. had been, with their luxe furnishings and spacious balconies, Vejita still did not keep many useless possessions hanging around. His nightstand held nothing but star charts and alien drug paraphenilia. I curiously examined the foreign objects, somewhat surprised that the controlled Prince allowed himself to let go that much. Something told me that even when Vejita was under the influence of whatever it was that these objects prepared, his actions were carefully executed and thought out. Even after consuming an obscene amount of alcohol last night, the Saiya-jin had suffered nothing besides a smoother edge to his anger. I imagine that Vejita is very charming when he is using.

I entered the sitting room, which I had not seen yesterday, with some amount of trepidation. I don't know what I was expecting -- a room decorated with the body parts of fallen enemies, perhaps, but what I found was not anything so extraordinary. The room was tastefully decorated with the usual rich colors and dramatic tapestries. Candlebras graced the corners of the room, and a walk-out balcony overlooked an outdoor training ground. Once again I found nothing telling, but my interest was captured by the paintings which hung on the walls.

Though Vejita had never told me much of Vejitasei, I knew that this is what the paintings were of. I studied the harsh landscapes bathed in red sunlight, the palace illuminated by three eerily large moons, and the gruesome scenes of war and had the realization that though Vejitasei was gone, it was by no means forgotten, even by those who were not Saiya-jin. Vejita must have used the power behind his name and place of origin to assist in the building of his empire, an empire modeled meticulously after what he remembered of his home planet.

Suddenly feeling uneasy, I left the room and entered another. A long table was the focus of the room, and I surmised that this is where Vejita and his closest comrades plotted. In the privacy of this room, they could plan the most horrific things and no conservative, or, Kami forbid, compassionate, advisors could get in the way. The atmosphere was ominous and I had to resist the urge to flee, as something of interest had caught my eye.

Sitting on the table was a leatherbound file folder. I approached it cautiously, as if it might come alive and bite me, and took a seat to leaf through its contents. Much to my disappointment, all of the writings were in a language and alphabet that I could not decipher but recognized from the scouter that I had confiscated from Radditz so many years earlier as Saiya-jin. It figured that Vejita would not allow the language to die. I could glean, however, that these were war documents. I replaced the file on the table and wandered back towards the main chamber.

A man, humanoid save for his four arms and unusually large eyes, awaited me in the bedroom. The tailor, I realized, as he was carrying a measure and a satchel of fabric swatches. He bowed and regarded me critically. The orange-skinned slave woman from earlier had returned as well, apparently to assist the alien. She silently set about organizing the fabric swatches, turning a trained eye to me as she went through the color choices.

"Remove your robe," the tailor ordered in heavily accented Standard. Before I could protest, the slave had deftly slid the silk from my shoulders. "You will have to be restored to your regular health before we can take final measurements," he observed, regarding my visible ribs with disdain. "But we shall have to make do until then with a few garments to tide you over."

"And what sort of garments has Vejita ordered to be made for me?" I asked as the man circled my waist with his measure, thankfully not seeming to care about my nakedness.

"I have yet to receive his orders," the man replied curtly. "You would do well to remember to address the Emperor properly. He does not take well to disrespect, and we all know what becomes of those who displease Vejita-sama."

Indeed we do.

"Of course, the matter of garment that is ordered to be made for you all depends on the decisions you make," the tailor mused, grinning to himself. Kami, is every employee in this palace as warped as their Emperor? The man looked downright sadistic. "Believe me, ningen, he will not make it easy for you should you go against his wishes. Or for your friends."

"My friends?" I quickly seize the alien's wrist, hardly caring if he is stronger than me. "They live?"

Pity is unmistakable in his eyes as he refocuses them from my white knuckles to my face. "That all depends on you, my dear, but for now they must endure the punishments which Vejita-sama bestows upon them." He shoots my bruises a pointed look. "As must you."

He is gone as quickly as he arrived, leaving me alone with the orange woman. She retreats to a corner, hovering until I should require anything. I pull the robe back over my shoulders, contemplating the information that the tailor has given me.

I suppose it isn't too abstract that Vejita has kept Goku and Piccolo alive -- it would be very out of character for him to quickly dispose of them. I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that they are going through unimaginable torture as I sit in the lap of luxury. And I'm sure that that fact has been sufficiently rubbed in their faces as well. Feeling a migraine coming on, I massage the bridge of my nose and lay back down on Vejita's bed.

"Will you be requiring a doctor, my lady?" the slave timidly asks.

I crack open an eye and seriously consider it. Then, remembering that Vejita had intended to send me to the med wing later, I shake my head.

I deserve the pain.

Vejita 'patiently' waited for his advisors to finish briefing him on the latest problems that he was expected to deal with, not even bothering to slow his stride as he headed to his throne room, where more important tasks awaited him. Despite the wonderful distraction that Bulma presented, there was something else on his mind that threatened to push all thoughts of mating right on out.

His irritating discovery of an alliance forming against him was all-consuming and demanded his full attention. He growled as he pondered this reality and the advisors scurried away like cockroaches, back into their dark offices. Just as they should. The harsh reality that there was more than one planet with the balls to plot against him was enough to push him to the brink of murder; his servants were fortunate that he possessed some iota of self-control.

Radditz awaited him in the throne room, wearing an expression that did not bode well for Vejita's nerves. The Saiya-jin Prince did not seat himself on his throne, where just anyone could interrupt their conversation with their annoying prattle -- he motioned for his comrade to follow him out to the balcony and to close the doors behind them.

"I spoke with the tailor not two minutes ago, Vejita-sama," Radditz started. "He said that your ningen is as belligerent as ever. Perhaps you should stifle her sharp tongue with a harsher punishment."

Vejita nodded. It was just as well that the girl had retained her fire -- she would not be nearly as amusing as a robot. "I want you to take her to the med bay when we are finished here. She is still suffering from last night's punishment."

"All of the arrangements have been made for her to assume leadership of your scientists," the guard informed him. "I'm assuming that you will want her to begin working as soon as possible."

"You assume too much," Vejita snapped. "She will need to be placated before she can begin work. It would hardly be beneficial for a vengeful ningen to purposely sabotage a project. Perhaps if you weren't such a dumbass you would have thought of that yourself."

Radditz cleared his throat, clearly nervous about the point he was about to make. "Well, Vejita-sama, I cannot picture her being too pleased about her friends rotting in your dungeons --"

"Pull your head out of your ass. There are things that can make even the most compassionate of weaklings forget about all about friendship." Vejita spat out the word 'friendship' like it left it bad taste in his mouth.

Radditz knew it was true. There were drugs so seductive that they could make a person do outlandish things -- even brush off the deaths of close friends. He couldn't even imagine what Vejita's drug of choice would do to a human. Even if Vejita did not resort to narcotics, the allure of his power and wealth might be enough to do the trick. The Saiya-jin grinned, proud to serve such a wily man.

"Scurry off and escort the human to the med wing," Vejita ordered, turning away from Radditz to survey the city streets below. "Make sure that all of her bruises are taken care of, and check that the tailor is almost finished. I have more pressing matters to attend to."

Vejita waited until Radditz had bowed and taken his leave, then removed a small communicator from his pocket. He was reluctant to tell anyone of his knowledge of the resistance against him; you could never tell who was working for the enemy, and if there was one thing he had learned from working under Frieza, it was that one could never be too cautious. He pressed a button and the face of one of his many contacts appeared on the small screen.

"What news do you have for me?" the Prince demanded, not thinking for a moment that there would be nothing new. His employees were not suicidal, after all.

"The alliance grows stronger in the number of its members, but still does not pose a serious threat to your empire, sir," the alien replied. "I have sent you what documentation I could get a hold of, and you can be certain that there will be more on the way soon."

" Of course the fucking alliance is getting stronger! Have you names, planets, details? Give me something useful, baka."

"There are a few confirmed planets that I have included in the report that was sent to you. Would you like me to name them now?"

"Their names no longer matter. They will soon be purged and auctioned off like the waste of space that they are." Vejita scowled -- it was not enough to discover the identities of planets. He had to know what they were planning to use against him, how they intended to take down the largest and most powerful empire the universe had ever seen. "You know better than to come to me with such worthless information. I want the names of the major players within the week, or you will soon share their fate." He killed the connection, knowing full well that the alien was scurrying off to do his bidding before he had even shut down the link.

He could order Bulma to make weapons until her little fingers were broken, but they were just spinning their wheels until they knew exactly what they were up against. Some powerful people must be involved in the alliance, Vejita mused angrily, because they covered their tracks well. Nowadays, this universe answered to his every beck and call -- it would take great influence or gross wealth to hide from him.

With a grimace thunderous enough to strike fear into any warrior's heart, the Saiya-jin Prince activated his communicator once again and began to interoggate his contacts, one by one. He would find what he was looking for -- or someone would pay.

Piccolo was awaked from his trance by the sound of their holding room's door being slammed. He opened his weary eyes to reveal the unwelcome form of Radditz. The Namek mentally winced; although Nappa was brawnier, Radditz's brains and mean streak made his brand of torture something to be truly feared. He went for your weaknesses. Across from him, Goku watched silently -- at least that pathetic glimmer of brotherly hope was gone now.

"Its so nice to arrive and be welcomed so warmly," Radditz exclaimed sarcastically, eyeing them with a cruel grin. "I just thought I'd pay my two favorite prisoners a visit before escorting our little Empress-to-be to the med wing."

At the mention of Bulma, Goku instantly lifted his head, and it was all Piccolo could do to not roll his eyes. "Empress-to-be? And what did Vejita to do her? Why does she need to see a doctor?"

Radditz was pleased with his response. "You mean you haven't heard? Word on the street, if you choose to believe such gossip, says that Vejita's setting her up for leadership. The man didn't have two thrones installed for nothing, they say." He examined a lock of his long hair leisurely, basking in Goku's misery. "And as for Bulma's injuries -- don't fret, I hear she likes it rough anyway. She's apparently an absolute wildcat in the sack -- or at least, that's what Vejita tells me."

Goku began to struggle frantically in his restraints, causing the ki to burn his skin and hold him down even tighter. "You lie. Bulma would never sleep with him willingly, not after all that he's done to us."

"Whatever you say." Radditz shrugged. "All I know is that her screams of pleasure awakened half the palace last night."

Piccolo was not about to say it out loud, but he believed that Radditz's rendition of current events was more accurate than Goku wanted to believe. He had seen glimpses of what had occurred between Bulma and Vejita, and there was something there, something that drew her in no matter what horrible crimes Vejita committed against her. So he was silent as Goku endured the agony of reality.

"Nothing to say, Namek?" Radditz glanced at him a bit more warily. Piccolo knew that the Saiya-jins had some idea of his telepathic abilities, and he assumed that that made Radditz nervous. "It hardly matters anyway -- you'll be singing enough for Vejita-sama when the time comes. He has plans for you."

Piccolo had expected as much -- Vejita would have had to be stupid to not take advantage of someone who could see things like he could. He wondered how the Saiya-jin was going to moniter him, so that he could be sure that the information he told him was not false; nothing he could think of bode well for him. He did not respond to Radditz's goading. He just kept his eyes on the floor.

The Saiya-jin refocused his attention on Goku, who was still glaring at him like a petulant child. "Don't you worry, brother, you'll be seeing your precious ningen soon enough. If I know Vejita-sama, and I like to think that I do, he'll want to show everyone just what they are missing out on. The Emperor loves a good exhibition."

_The room was dark, lit only by dark, glowing red ki that hung around the ceilings. The music pulsed in the bloodstreams of the guests, they moved to it, some hardly aware of what they were doing. It was a good party. They always were._

_From where Piccolo was restrained, he could see most everything. Bulma was lounging at Vejita's feet, rocking as she gave in to the effects of whatever drink he was feeding her. She pressed dark lips to the rim of the glass and Vejita smirked as he tipped it towards her. His eyes burned into her, and Piccolo saw that her hand was between his legs. _

"Bulma would never allow something like that to happen," Goku protested weakly. His naivete was almost painful.

"She does what Vejita bids her to, because she does not want to share your fate." Radditz favors Goku with a quick ki blast, small but painfully accurate. "She does his bidding because it brings him pleasure, and Vejita always rewards those who please him."

_Goku was there, but Piccolo could barely see him between the throngs of people. Vejita had ensured that the Earth Saiya-jin would see everything, that he would see Bulma go to him willingly. The man's pain was like needles on the Namek's skin._

"As much as I would love to sit here and chat, I'm afraid I have other things to attend to." Radditz began to exit, but stopped as his large frame filled the doorway. "Vejita-sama will be paying you a visit soon -- you had better hope that he is in a happier mood than he was this morning."

_Though he was across the room, Piccolo sensed when Bulma's eyes fell on him. He met her gaze, and saw more than just drunkeness working in her mind. She nodded almost imperceptibly, causing him to quickly look away for fear that Vejita had detected the exchange. If that were so, then it meant pain for both of them._

_Bulma had a plan._

**A/N: **Insert apology for the tardiness of this chapter here. Please remember to review!

Lady Rhapsody


	8. Chapter Seven

**. . . . Camouflage . . . . **

Lady Rhapsody

**. Seven . **

When Bulma woke she was not alone. A pair of dark eyes, framed by long wild hair, studied her from across the room. Uncomfortably aware that she was clad in nothing but her thin robe, she cautiously sat up, the blankets gripped tight to her chest.

Radditz leered at her and rose from his chair. "You've been cordially invited to the med wing, m'lady," he announced with a mocking bow. "Pray, do not let my presence alarm you. You will be seeing a lot of me in the weeks… years… perhaps even decades to come."

She slid to the edge of the bed, still unsure. "How long have you been watching me?"

"Long enough to lament the fact that you belong to my Emperor." Radditz crossed the room to stand before the door. "Alas, I am just your lowly personal guard, destined to admire from afar. But don't get your hopes up - I am commanded to keep you within my reach, so the distance will not be so great."

Bulma flinched as the door slammed behind him. She assumed that she was meant to follow her guard, but did they really mean for her to roam the palace dressed as she was? Then the memory of the other night came back to her. Whoever had been curious to see her had already glimpsed more than most had seen as Vejita had dragged her kicking and screaming to his chambers. Running a quick hand through her disheveled curls, she stepped into the hallway.

Radditz awaited her, flanked by the orange-skinned slave woman, who kept her eyes trained to the floor. " Vejita has ordered that I take you to the med wing. You won't be completely restored by your first session, but it will get rid of your superficial bruises and soreness. We can't have our little ningen looking like a punching bag, now can we?"

Bulma fell into step behind him, unwilling to join into any sort of banter with one of the men who had hunted her like an animal for the better part of three years. She knew that she should be grateful that Vejita hadn't assigned Nappa as her guard - with his brutish personality and their recent 'confrontation' that would hardly have been wise - but if Radditz meant to chat her ear off, she might be forced to commit an act of physical violence again.

As if reading her mind, Radditz cut in: "Nappa was so disappointed that he couldn't be with us today, but I'm sure you two will get the chance to meet again soon."

As they navigated the labyrinth-like hallways of the palace, Bulma took the opportunity to try to accustom herself to her surroundings. Though the floors, walls, and most of the décor were dark, it was obvious that Vejita had taken the myriad cultures of his empire into consideration. Here and there strange objects and paintings brightened the black surroundings. The scientist in her wanted to stop and run both her fingers and her mind over the things, but the survivor won and erred on the side of caution.

_Don't let him have all of you._

She shuddered at the memory, trying to push her fear about where Goku and Piccolo were out of her mind. It would only cloud her judgment and serve as a distraction - a distraction she could not afford at this point. If Vejita saw her anxiety, it would only inflame his anger towards the pair. If they truly were still alive…

A set of ornate doors loomed before them. Bulma would have expected the med wing of such an enormous complex to be a bustling place, full of scientists, doctors, and patients going about their business. What they walked into, however, was much different.

Silence greeted them, along with a sterile smell and a gust of cold air. Bulma felt as if she were walking into a morgue, until she saw the rows of healing tanks lined up against the walls. Some were curtained to provide privacy for the patient, most were not. She stared hard as Radditz led her through the hall, unable to conceal her scientific curiosity. Of course the place wasn't busy - everything could be cured by a simple visit to the regeneration tanks. It was a far cry from the primitive self-medicating she and her companions had been doing.

"Like it here, do you ningen?" Radditz chuckled. "Behave yourself and maybe Vejita will let you play with the tanks."

They had stopped at the end of the long row of tanks, and went through a smaller door marked with a seal that Bulma recognized as the mark of the House of Vejitasei. She assumed that this was where Vejita received his medical treatment, and felt nervous despite herself - she had not agreed to do anything for Vejita yet and as far as she knew, this could be another punishment. Her fingers tightened on the front of her robe, hoping that that was the only sign of her apprehension.

Radditz grimaced to himself at the sight of Bulma so clearly concealing her discomfort. All they were going to do was throw her in a tank for a few hours, and the girl was about to jump out of her skin. If Vejita wanted an Empress to rule beside him, he was going to be severely disappointed unless the girl decided to grow a pair and accept that the game was over. Disappointment was not a pleasant emotion in their bold leader.

An alien in a lab coat greeted them when they entered, trying to not meet Radditz's eyes. All palace staff - as well as the general populace - treated the Saiyans with a healthy amount of fear and circumspect after the things they had seen over the years. It met the orange-skinned girl's eyes and nodded. The girl seized Bulma's arm and started to remove her robe.

"Hey!" she protested, trying to wrench herself from the slave's grip. She was weaker even than this fool, Radditz mused, but at least she was starting to show some spirit.

"Quit your squirming," he growled at her. "They're just going to put you in a tank for a few hours."

Bulma shot him a glare and shrugged out of her robe, leaving her naked before the tank. Her eyes burned when they met Radditz's and the doctor's, her chin lifted defiantly. Radditz tried not to stare at her - though undoubtedly shapely, her body was malnourished, and small bruises dotted her from collarbone to calf. It was clearly going to take more than one session to restore her to health. Lucky for him, if he was to be her escort.

"Into the tank, here," the doctor mumbled, his accent rendering his words almost incomprehensible. He brusquely secured Bulma into the tank, affixed her breathing mask, and slammed the door shut. The tank began to glow with eerie blue light as it filled with liquid. Before the sedative kicked in, the ningen's eyes widened with something like panic as the liquid reached her face.

When her eyes had closed and healing started, Radditz turned to the doctor. "How many sessions before she is restored?"

The doctor studied her for a moment, then shrugged. "Two, sir. First session for superficial damage, second for overall health. The Emperor will be pleased."

"He'd better be," Radditz warned, taking a seat across from the tank and propping up his feet. "I'll remember your ugly face, just in case."

**. . .**

**. .**_** Vejita **_**. .**

When I entered my room in the med wing, I found Radditz snoring in his chair, an orange slave lolling about on the floor, and the woman floating in the tank. I give the chair Radditz is sleeping in a rough kick, sending him sprawling to the floor, which awakens the slave woman. She scurries to her knees to show the proper respect before melting into a corner to stare at the floor. I like my slaves invisible, and it appears that the trainers have been doing their job well. At least someone is around here.

I stand before the tank and study the woman carefully. Her bruises are gone, and her body has even begun to fill out a little more. The timer reveals that she has two hours to go. Radditz comes to stand beside me, wearing that ridiculous expression of concentration he has when he's attempting to be my 'friend'. I resist the urge to slap him. Good lackeys are so hard to find.

"I thought that she was a little ghost at first, but we got a taste of her fire before long," he says, placing a finger on the glass to trace her face. "Am I to be her babysitter from now on?"

Babysitter. I should make him be her slave instead of her guard - what good will he do my empire in comparison to what she is capable of? "For now, you are a babysitter. Until she is ready."

"I don't think that it will take long," Radditz said. "Especially not with her little friends in the dungeons."

I'm not so sure. She was quick to sell out the cueball and Kakkarott's annoying wife, but Kakkarott himself is another matter. She may have always thought of him as her stupid younger brother, but I am certain that he saw things differently.

_It wasn't long after our return from Namek that I decided to study them. _

_These people are always emoting, always talking, always giving themselves away. If they were charged with a deadly secret, or a mission which required discretion, I'm not sure they would even understand the point. Not that I'm complaining - unbeknownst to them, my task is therefore made that much easier. _

_The Briefs are having yet another frivolous gathering. The woman's mother has decided to take credit for the work her gardeners' have done for her and organized for everyone to picnic by the pool, which (oh joy!) is surrounded by tumbles of garish floral displays. Thankfully I have superior Saiyan eyes, or else I would be very much in need of the sunglasses the humans are always wearing._

_Kakkarott and his horrid family are splashing about in the pool, making enough noise to drown out a jet engine. The rest of the ragtag group lounge about in chairs, attempting to change the color of their pasty skin and not really admiring the flowers at all. Only Bulma examines the foliage, wandering from one bush to the next in her swimwear and a long filmy dress._

_I allow myself an extra minute to 'study' her. We had an encounter in the kitchen last night that has me considering her closer. I have not had her yet, but I know now that I will. _

_She had been sitting on the counter, eating some weird Earth fruit, when I came in from training. She was often awake when I finished, wandering the halls or toying with her inventions. It was hot, and a thin film of sweat coated her skin. I tried to ignore her, but as soon as I brushed past her I felt it. _

_Previous to this, I had not given much thought to her as a sexual object. Beyond my initial impression - almost a child, but a pretty one - I had no cause to look further. Now, however… I suppose my time on this backwater rock has made me restless. I feel attraction, strong attraction, and desire._

"_You seem more comfortable here."_

_Her words surprise me; her friends are too terrified to even look in my direction. Usually when we find ourselves alone in a room together, she quietly finishes her business and makes it a point to leave. I do not let my interest show, but instead rifle through the fridge, gathering ingredients for a snack. Could it be that the slightest of the group, the only non-fighter, is the most courageous? I turn from the fridge with the food in my hands and have a seat at the counter._

_She turns to look at me, her long hair falling into her face. If I had a moral code, it would have been in serious peril. She looks so much a child, but there's that something… I shrug it off - in a few years, she will be more suited to my taste. Then she swings her legs around to face me, and there is no mistaking the undertones. She is intensely aware of her burgeoning sexuality, and now so am I. _

"_I will never be 'comfortable' in such a ridiculous place," I reply. I do not reveal anything to these people. My plans are best served by stony silences and vague responses. I want them to forget, not that I am dangerous, but that I am an immediate threat to their way of life._

_She nods, thoughtful. "After Namek and everything that I know now… I don't think I'm comfortable here, either." She slides off the counter, picks up her bowl of fruit, and crosses the kitchen. She sets it before me, and then meets my eyes, closer than I have been to her before. I can smell her fear, and something else. "Try these. They're good." Then she disappears down the hall, leaving me to my meal._

_As I lounge on my pool chair the next morning, I am thinking of that look and that scent. There was a challenge in that gaze - a tentative one, tinged with a healthy dose of fear - but a challenge nonetheless. The smell of her sexual interest, combined with her fear, stays with me. Was she offering me fruit, or herself? I do not know which she intended, but I know which one I want._

_I can see her body through her dress, so I look. I am thinking about what it would be like to peel that fabric off of her when Kakkarott steps out of the water and over to her. She favors him with a smile, an indulgent smile that she might have given a child, and he moves elsewhere to bask in the sun. There is something odd about his demeanor around the ningen woman, and it is not merely his usual idiot behavior._

_He is watching her. I am watching her. We are watching her._

_Bulma is discussing some plant with her mother, fingering a blossom and laughing. Kakkarott is staring at her like he was staring at the buffet table earlier. I glance around to see if anyone else notices, but it appears as if I am the only one aware of my surroundings. Typical. He is watching her with a look on his face that I have never seen before - when he is forlorn, he looks almost Saiyan. Almost._

_Its almost enough to make me laugh aloud. My enemy, my bumbling do-gooder Saiyan counterpart, is salivating over his little human 'sister'. The same little girl who transforms herself into a woman when she looks at me. _

"We can do better than the dungeons for Kakkarott," I sneer at Radditz. I study the woman in the tank, trying to find the girl who fascinated Kakkarott and I both. She is there, but I prefer what I see now. This girl, the one who had to steal and lie and betray to survive, she is the one I need. I wonder who Kakkarott loves more? "When she is done in the tank, bring her to dinner."

As I leave the room, I look over my shoulder to see Radditz watching her with a half-smile on his face, and I know I have left her in the care of the right person. He will protect her, if only to be around her longer.

Let them look - where I instill fear, she will stir desire, and Kami knows that that is an intoxicating combination.

**. . .**

**. . **_**Piccolo **_**. . **

I can tell that Goku is dreaming. Instead of shifting and snoring in the way that reminds me so much of his deceased son, his body is still. His face moves rapidly from expression to expression, to looks that I have never seen on the Earth-Saiyan before. Anger, happiness, bafflement - those I have seen before. Depression, longing, fear - those I have not, but I have an inkling that they will soon be close friends.

My restraints prevent me from being able to reach him, but I extend my arm anyway, in the hopes that I can get close enough to forge a connection. I want to see what is changing the Saiyan, whether it be our present conditions or a specter from the past.

Goku has never been a closed person. As soon as my hand is closer, he exhales, and I have him.

_My wife and kid are in the pool, splashing, but I can't do it anymore. Sometimes I can't smile through it, and so I step out of the water and approach the girl who is both my problem and my solution. I don't want to admit it, even to myself, but it is fighting its way to the surface. _

_Bulma is looking at flowers with her mom, and she looks so pretty. She always looks pretty, but she is different when she's happy. She's brighter. I can see through her swimsuit cover-up, but I use all of my willpower to keep my eyes on her face. She smiles at me, and it hurts so much I have to walk away. _

_From my chair by the pool I can see both my family and my best friend. The pain is very real, more poignant than its been in a while. I cannot pinpoint why, but then I feel it. _

_Vejita is sitting on the only chair in the shade - typical, why can't he try to be happy for once? - and he is watching her, too. Watching her like she's a little lavender mouse and he's a cat. A black cat. Is he in the shade or is he emanating his own darkness? Vejita watches all of us, so it should not bother me. But it does. A lot. _

"_You're so gloomy, Vejita," Bulma complains as she walks past, twirling a bloom in her hand. "Didn't you sleep well last night?" _

_There. As she walks away, she looks at him. A split second. The look she gave Yamcha when we came across him in the desert. The look she gets when she's about to invent something. The look she has never, will never, give me. _

_Vejita catches me looking and smirks. It feels like he is punching me in the gut, so I hurriedly jump back into the pool. _

Goku is not dreaming. He is remembering. This does not bode well. I was aware of Goku's feelings once we were on the run, but to discover that they ran deeper, farther into the past, is disturbing indeed.

And Vejita knows. He saw it. Now I know.

I know why Goku has not been killed yet. I know why I see him when I look into the future. I struggle to find feeling in my legs, wishing I could reach Goku to wake him up and warn him… of what? We are too far down our chosen paths already. I settle back into my uncomfortable position.

Then the door slams open, and I know that our situation is about to change.

**. . . **

Um… hi. And sorry. Sooo sorry.

Lady Rhapsody


	9. Chapter Eight

**. . . . Camouflage . . . . **

Lady Rhapsody

**. Eight . **

_**. . Radditz . . **_

As it turned out, the Afterlife was a much different place than I had expected.

Not that I had ever given much thought to the subject, mind you - as a warrior in Frieza's army, consequences were rarely a topic of conversation - but any vague ideas I might have had were obliterated the moment I opened my eyes and came back to awareness.

I will spare the gory details and just say that anything you might have inflicted upon others was given back to you a million times harsher. Needless to say, I spent most of my time there in unimaginable agony. Time moved differently; days and nights blended into a bleak eternity, with no hope of change or end or resolution. And yet…

_I remember a day, towards the end of my time there, when I found myself in a new place. I was in a hall, or at least the semblance of a hall, filled with fog. For lack of a better idea, I cautiously walked forward, expecting a new form of horrific punishment to present itself. Sometimes, as I think upon my life now, I wish that it had been a new mode of torture. Doing the right thing, I have found, is much more difficult than doing as you like. _

_After what seemed like an eternity of walking, I came upon a cloaked and hooded figure, crouched in the shadows. It seemed to be watching me, focusing upon my pathetic, beaten form with glowing eyes. I couldn't make out any other features, any identifying characteristics, but then again, I probably wasn't meant to. I nearly jumped out of my celestial skin when it began to speak to me._

"_Greetings, Radditz," the figure said, in the harsh tones of the Saiyan language. "I imagine you're wondering where you are."_

"_I'm in Hell," I couldn't help but grumble back. "Where else would I be forced to linger in a crypt, talking to a ghost? You guys are really taking this underworld thing literally, eh?"_

_The thing chuckled, a fricative sound that made my hairs stand on end. "You may have been there, yes, but you are somewhere else now. Look around you, soldier."_

_It waved its hand, and suddenly I could see through the haze. Instead of walls, I could start to make out images, moving images. I stepped closer, and was greeted with the sight of Frieza, that slimy bastard, killing Vejita. I watched my idiot brother ascend to Super Saiyan (really?) and take the honor which should have belonged to my Prince, the honor which he had so long been looking forward to. I could only assume that I was seeing things as they were happening in life, but to what end? _

"_Where is Vejita now? He must be here, and this is why you are showing me." I whirled to face the hooded figure, who was shaking its head. _

"_The Saiyan Prince Vejita was here for a short time… until the intervention."_

_I turned back to the mist, and saw Vejita alive again, lurking amongst the Earthlings, training, planning. I could not believe what I was seeing. "He lives again? What kind of trick is this?"_

"_No tricks. Earth is in possession of a magic set of orbs which can grant the wishes of those skilled enough to find them. It just so happens that your brother and the human woman Bulma Briefs harvested the set, and wished those killed by Frieza back to life." The figure tilted its head, as if studying my reaction, which obviously was bewilderment. "Of course, these things do not happen without our assistance. Vejita has been given another chance. He has things yet to accomplish, things far more important than killing Frieza."_

"_He must punish Kakkarott for stealing that honor from him!" It was obvious - Vejita was going to salvage the honor of our people, rid them of this blight forever. "Is my punishment to be watching my brother die? Frankly, I'm not impressed."_

_The thing burst into mocking laughter, which seared my ears and made me double over in pain. "You have much to learn, Saiyan. Why should we bother with such petty things as honor? Look."_

_The images shifted and what I saw was more shocking than anything previous. Vejita was sitting on a roof, stargazing and conversing with a ningen woman. Granted, she was attractive, but my prince has never bothered to have a chat with anyone, especially not in the casual manner which they seemed to be doing now. I watched them talk, fight, fume, and fuck their way into the strangest liason I have ever seen Vejita engage in. _

"_Who is she?" I demand. "She looks familiar… why would my prince waste so much time on that backwater planet with a silly purple female, if not to get some sort of revenge on Kakkarott?"_

"_Your prince was and is never one to waste time," the thing admonished. "He is plotting, ever so carefully, the rise of a new empire, and that 'silly purple female' is essential to this goal. She is the reason you are here."_

"_What, do I get to fuck her too?"_

"_Bulma Briefs is going to salvage the empire Vejita is planning on building before he becomes the monster Frieza molded him to be… the abomination he is destined to be."_

_I watched Vejita act in such a way as I had never thought possible. He was not tamed by this woman, no, but… I have never seen him feel attachment to or interest in a non-Saiyan being before. I watched Bulma - now I recognized her as one of the humans who had been with my brother during my unfortunate visit to Earth - tinker with her inventions, never realizing how my prince coveted her genius until it was too late. Before the image faded, I saw my brother wistfully studying Bulma as she watched Vejita leave a party. He flew from the balcony, his ki fierce around him. When he landed, the dragonballs glowed at his feet. _

"_What you have seen so far is of the Past, and it is inconsequential in comparison to what I have seen of the Future," the figure said, wresting me from my reverie. "Would you like to see what is it come?"_

_Without warning, everything went dark around us, and the images loomed around me, as if I were standing in the midst of them. I saw what Vejita was to become, and what was going to happen to the universe if that man took hold of it. The darkness planted in him by Frieza, nurtured for an entire lifetime, was finally unleashed, and no one could stop him. His empire was great, yes, but it was also self-destructive. At first there was glory and prosperity, but then…. I watched Vejita become his own worst nightmare, bring dishonor and depravity to the Saiyan name, and finally tear the universe down around his ears. It was too much; as I watched all worlds end, I fought to shake the trance, to get the pictures out of my mind._

"_Don't you see?" the voice was inside my head now, hammering and painful. "Vejita cannot be allowed to do this alone. He is not worthy. He is tainted; he is damaged."_

_He had wanted to be better, I could see this, but he was not capable. His own darkness began to consume him, and he started to stop caring. Whatever twisted honor system the Saiyans instilled in him was shattered, and destruction for the sake of it became his new goal. He was going to erase the universe, everyone and everything in it, for failing him, for not bending to his will and making him the ruler and man he always wanted to be. There was so much pain, as much in Vejita as in the others, and even my twisted warrior sensibilities balked at the result._

"_We cannot allow Vejita to wreak this havoc, and yet it is his destiny to do so. We are intervening - we are putting forces into play which were not anticipated." As if reading my mind - probably actually reading my mind - the voice answered my unvoiced questions. "We can do this because we are the universe. We are the forces that guide you, that form you, that watch you. We formed your fates, but now they must change."_

_I saw Bulma Briefs weave her way through the party which Vejita had left, her face radiant but her eyes worried, and felt a twinge of attraction. I could see what my prince was drawn to - there was something magnetic about this girl, something that the likes of us had never been able to know before. _

"_We have created your fates, but we cannot go back and rewrite them. With enough willpower, with enough strength, mortals can change their destinies."_

_Now Bulma was standing behind Vejita as he addressed a cheering crowd, resplendent and impressive in armor and clearly successful in his reign. How could it be that one ningen girl could do this? What was she doing to Vejita to avert the darkness?_

"_Of course, no one mortal can do this alone." The shadowy figure was suddenly beside me, and I felt chilled to the bone. "What say you, Radditz, to a second chance?"_

Now, as I wait for Bulma's tank to complete its work, I cannot help but think back to my brush with death. Even the memory of the figure in the hood gave me a shudder - no small feat considering the things I've seen. I'm still not sure whether the thing was a higher power or simply a manifestation of psychological torture, but its words were all I could think about from that moment on.

I had been a much different man before that experience - I can't say that I necessarily cared about the well-being of the universe or its inhabitants. However, the destruction I had seen looming in the Future had shaken me to the core. Saiyans may have earned a reputation for being uncaring, but our culture was an honorable one. Violence may have been part of our lives, but never for the sake of pure destruction. That sort of behavior was the specialty of the Cold family, especially Frieza, whom we loathe, even in the afterlife. To see Vejita descend to that level was the most effective motivator the figure could have given me; I knew that if Vejita was allowed to reach that point, the sane part of him would want someone to stop him. We had vehemently opposed and resented the things we were often forced to do under Frieza's command, and they had nearly destroyed Vejita's sanity already.

If Vejita is allowed to continue along this path, he will be damning our entire race to the worst sort of Hell, and no resurrection will be able to save us.

Up until this point, I have been cautious about the subject of Bulma Briefs. When I was resurrected and came face to face with her outside of Capsule Corporation, I was still reeling from the rush of new life, and could not really process what was unfolding around me. I assumed that Vejita, given his attachment to the girl, would have simply taken her and gotten on with it. Instead, to my surprise, the girl shoved her weapon in our faces and he let her go. At the time, I was of the same opinion as Vejita - let the girl harden, let her mature into someone who could handle the harsh realities of the new Empire and be better for it.

Now, I'm not so sure this was the right decision. So far, she has shown few signs of the fight she will need to complete her task. Her task… I can hardly believe the thoughts running through my own brain. Radditz, Saiyan warrior and former soldier of Frieza's army, on a sacred mission to save the universe? Ridiculous; sometimes I think that the powers that be are up there having a good laugh at my expense, or guiding me against my will. But the dark images are always there, always on the edge of my awareness…

I must proceed carefully from here on out - I have been doubtful about Bulma's capabilities, but she has only just been found. Thus far I have managed to be convincing about going along with everything that Vejita has planned - the imprisonment and torture of my own blood (though calling that fool Kakkarott my brother is still hard for me), the gruff treatment of the woman who might possibly save us all - but I need to begin my gentle steering of this ill-fated ship. And that will have to start with Bulma. Everything she has learned must be cultivated, and she must be strong enough to influence Vejita, a tall order if there ever was one.

Most importantly, Vejita must never know. He must never know that I have been charged with manipulating him, with forcing a mere human's influence onto his reign. His darkness has already begun to take hold of him, as evidenced by his increasingly rampant behavior, and if he ever finds out…

The tank begins to beep, startling me from my thoughts, and I jump to my feet as the liquid begins to drain. Bulma is awake, glaring at me from behind her oxygen mask. I plaster an expression of nonchalance on my face, stifle my apprehension, and call for the doctor.

**. . . **

Bulma was silent the entire way back to Vejita's quarters, which suited Radditz just fine. He was still unsure of how to act around her - whether a direct approach would be welcomed, or if he needed to be circumspect, as he would with his Saiyan companion. For her part, the human woman studied Radditz as discreetly as possible. Something was amiss about the soldier, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

They had little time to dwell on each other, much to their mutual relief, as they had soon reached their destination. The orange-skinned slave who trailed them immediately went to the bed, where several garments were laid out.

"Thank Kami," Bulma grumbled, approaching to get a closer look. "I was beginning to think that this fucking robe was going to be my official uniform."

"You're assuming that I'm willing to offer you a position in this empire at all." Vejita emerged from the balcony stairs, arms crossed, and leaned against the doorway. "What makes you think you aren't headed to the slave quarters, where you certainly deserve to be?"

The woman arched a brow and dared a side look at the Saiyan as she ran her fingers over her new clothes. "Don't tiptoe around the issue. Its not like you, and after three years I would think that everyone is ready to cut the bullshit and get on with things."

Radditz fought to conceal his surprise at her bold words. Perhaps the ningen had been doing some contemplating of her own - he had certainly not seen this kind of fight in her yet. He was glad that the girl had had the sense to play it close to the chest when it benefited her, but wary of Vejita's ire. Initially, Vejita did not react to her words at all; he merely waved a hand, signaling the slave girl to leave the room, which she immediately did, trembling in fear.

"As you wish," he purred, approaching Bulma with seriousness in his black eyes. "I'll get to the point." She stiffened as he came to stand before her, but stood her ground. Her knuckles whitened where she tightened her grip on one of her new garments. "From here on out, you will do as I command. You will assist in expanding and securing this empire by working in the science department, as well as completing any other tasks I assign to you. If you do this, you will be rewarded."

"And if I refuse?" Fear was evident on her face, but her eyes remained focused steadily on Vejita. "Why should I help you, when you've destroyed everything I've ever cared about? Why would I want to work for you, when we both know that anything I create will be used for destruction?"

Vejita chuckled. "Because, little one, you do not have a choice. If you do not assist me, I will continue to do things my way." He brushed a strand of hair out of her face, as if admiring its sheen. Really, Radditz knew that Vejita was calmest right before the infamous temper erupted. Sure enough, his grip on her hair tightened, and she was pulled roughly against him, forced to look into his raging eyes. When he spoke again, it was in a harsh growl that made the ningen cringe. "Dust off your idiot human brain and consider your options. If you continue to resist, you are headed for a long life of pain, make no mistake. Consider all that you stand to gain."

"You expect me to believe that my life is going to be a garden party if I follow you?" Bulma spat, voice harsh from his grip on her throat. "I've suffered under your rule for three years! I would rather die than be a part of what you're creating!"

With a snarl, Vejita tossed the ningen across the room, where she collided with the wall and slid to the floor in a heap. Before she could even blink, he was on her. "I can grant that wish for you right now." His ki burst out around him, enveloping them in bright red light. When Radditz made a startled move towards them, he was immediately put down with a warning blast.

"Kill me, then," Bulma hissed, fighting to keep consciousness in the midst of Vejita's power. "Send me to my family and friends; I'll wait for you in Hell."

Radditz could hardly believe she had the gall to openly challenge Vejita like that… He was amazed that she wasn't a smear on the wall already. It was a telling testament of her power, and reassuring to someone who saw her as a lifeline for them all.

Blue eyes bore into black, and neither party backed down. Bulma was obviously struggling, taking deep breaths and blinking hard to stay awake, but the ferocity in her eyes was not to be quelled. Vejita moved first - he smirked and leaned closer.

"You are better now than you were," he observed. "I look forward to enjoying the benefits this improvement will surely provide both me and my empire." His ki flashed once, angrily, and when the blinding light dimmed Bulma lay on the floor, motionless.

Radditz attempted to hide his concern as Vejita crossed the room to stand by him, but was unsuccessful. "You can help the ningen by reminding her that her world is gone, so clinging to her old life is futile. Put her back in the tank and report back here - I would prefer to avoid the torment of dining alone with Nappa."

**. . .**

_**. . Chichi . .**_

I try to shut the door behind me as quietly as possible, so as not to attract the notice of the occupants. Thankfully, I was just needed to clean up a food mess in this particular soldier's quarters, but I don't want to unnecessarily draw attention and give him any other ideas.

Since this is supposed to be my own time to eat dinner, I am not immediately required back at the barracks, so I shuffle along slower than usual. This particular soldier holds a high rank in the military, and I am not often allowed in lush areas of the palace like this, so I try to maximize the experience.

Its hard to believe that a brute like Vejita would have appreciation for something like art or interior design, but either he or someone in his employ certainly ensured that neither would be lacking in the palace. Most of my surroundings aren't what I would call beautiful - the paintings tend towards violence or eerie alien landscapes, and the decoration often includes strange old weapons and toxic-looking plants - but they certainly beat what I look at every day. I was allotted a bleak concrete cell with no window, and sometimes the lack of color and stimulation threatens to drive me completely crazy.

I stop to glance out of one of the panoramic windows to the city below, clutching my rough slave's garb closer around me. The air is getting cooler; if everything was as it should be, Goku would be starting to gather firewood for the winter, and my biggest problem would be what kind of Halloween costume to make for Gohan this year. My throat constricts at the thought of my family, and its all I can do to stifle tears. I have tried to numb myself to my reality, but sometimes its just too hard. I often channel these feelings into anger towards Vejita and Bulma, but afterwards I feel just as hollow.

Suddenly I hear the sound of heavy footsteps coming my way - only soldiers wear boots that make that much noise. Quickly, I avert my eyes and pretend to dust the window frame with the rag that is always attached to my belt. Idleness is not tolerated in the slaves here. Once I hear the soldier pass me, I sneak a look, and both my jaw and the rag fall.

Cradled in the arms of Radditz is none other than Bulma Briefs. She is unconscious, and clearly injured. Her long hair falls over his arm like a flag of surrender, and she's wearing nothing but a robe and a fresh set of bruises. I know that it could only be Vejita who has done this, and cannot help but secretly rejoice at her trials. As inconspicuously as possible, I trail them down the hall towards the med wing.

At the intersection of two hallways, Radditz comes to a halt. I duck into an alcove and pretend to dust a tapestry before I'm caught and executed for being incredibly stupid.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he demands of someone I cannot yet see. "Vejita-sama's expecting us in his quarters for dinner, and I don't feel like having my appetite spoiled by watching him beat you to a pulp for being late."

Nappa stepped into sight beside Radditz, and my stomach begins doing an aerobics routine. "Just dumped Kakkarott in the Cage. How come you get to fondle the whore while I do all the dirty work?"

My mind reels at the mention of my husband's Saiyan name. He lives? And what is the Cage? I strain to hear what is being said, excited and scared of what I might hear all at the same time.

Radditz's grip tightens on Bulma - is that protectiveness I am seeing, or just obedience to Vejita? "Because, shit-for-brains, I don't have a personal vendetta against her, and I'm quick enough to move out of the way before she can hack off any body parts."

"Fuck yourself," Nappa snaps, and stalks off the way he came.

"At least I have the proper equipment!" Radditz calls after him, chuckling to himself. He adjusts Bulma and starts off towards the med wing again. I lose sight of them as he turns another corner and continues on his way.

My pace quickens as I head back to the slave quarters. I no longer have any desire to linger. I need to find out what the Cage is, and steel myself for the answer that I have a feeling I will not want to hear.

**. . .**

Lady Rhapsody


End file.
